Final Testament

Laurence

Scribal errors occur in a work of such scope and ambition. Kindly note the errors and send them to me. Rabbi Shone

Many will take pen in hand to account the days of the Messiah. Luke, in the Old Testament, based his gospel on the eyewitness of those who heard the preaching of a New Covenant many years after the preacher was crucified. The Passion of our time, however, was a media event, witnessed by as many souls as stood on Sinai. I offer you, Theophilos, an interpretation of the life and teachings of the Messiah authorized by Sealah. Yet Sealah is shy of holy writ and this account is not canon. When two or three gather to discuss the new teachings as a living oral tradition, that will be our worship and prayer. When a text is fixed and an authentic received version of the truth is feigned, know that it does not have the sanction of Sealah.

We are concerned with the facts of the life of the Messiah. The Final Act is complete, it is no fiction. Other gospels will be offered, by other worthy disciples. This Testament is, I pray, inspired by my devotion to the anointed one's life and teachings. Open it down the middle, for it can only alight on the wings of imagination. I offer it to you again, Theophilos, as one offers a stroll through their orchard to a dear friend. The fruits are many and the fragrance, I hope, not overpowering. This testament is good news, but not gospel. This story is Novel. A tale of friendship and love. We shall speak again soon Theophilos.

A New Albion

Before the coming of foreign conquerors to Laguna, tribes of native Californians peopled the hills, canyons and inlets of their own little promised land. The natives would share the fate of the Ten Lost Tribes. God was One and Good, and the Indians lived in harmony with their neighbors, the land, and its creator. Digging for edible roots, gathering grapes from the vine, cracking the walnut from its shell, they toiled in joy. Wild honeybees added their sweetness, and on occasion, a deer was run down and totally consumed, as the sacrifices in Old Jerusalem. The deer spirit was thanked for the moccasins and the meat. This Eden also had its demons. Rattlers snaked through the high grass, musically announcing their presence before they struck. Grizzlies stalked the mountains. They were greatly feared. Condors, hovered deathlike, seeking their next prey. Once in a lifetime, in the sacred and supernatural Tolacha ritual, death was unmasked. The elders carefully measured the vision-inducing drug so the initiate's visit to the otherside was not permanent. When real death came, the Indian's garments were washed and the soul instructed to take its place in the heavens, with all others who had died, among the stars.

Albion Lost

One demon came carrying a cross. He thought the native an inferior breed, filthy, lazy and brutish, lacking inventiveness and culture. "Too lazy to hunt," he noted in his journal, "they live on grubs, abalone and tasteless roots, eating only what is forgeable, planting nothing. They leech bitter tanic acid from acorns for their meager winter meals." The Spanish Franciscan who claimed these native hills for Christ, conquered this land of promise without having to call upon his well trained troops. He considered the Indians cowardly for not resisting their new masters. The natives sensed somewhere within the Catholic's teaching, the one God they worshiped. Jesus, they found to be a gentle and noble spirit; an Indian. The priest's notion of land ownership did not overly concern the Indian. The Earth is the Creator's and all that is on the Earth. The Indians continued to grind their meal on the great rocks of the canyon. On our pilgrimage, Theophilos, I will show you the old oak holes. They appear as indentations formed by the kneeling supplicant's knees.The swallows that returned each year to the mission are, I believe, the souls of these Indians, who still yearn for their lost Eden.

California Nativity

The Reverend set his newspaper down and gazed at the Pacific through the picture window in his study. He watched the reflection of his head shaking. A Dominican monk had stormed the pulpit of the Cathedral Notre Dame in Paris, shouting "God is dead!" The Reverend thought of his wife, and smiled. Rex Morgan, M,D. nurse pulled the plug on a terminal patient. She called it mercy killing. The Reverend called it murder. He took his wife to a movie, "Cyrano de Bergerac," to take her mind off her condition. Jose Ferrier was a magnificent Cyrano, but Christian should have spoken up for himself! Fiction and the cinema annoyed the Reverend. Only one story was worth telling. The Reverend read no novels. The trip to the movie was a rarity to please his wife. He preferred his Bible. Who could rival Genesis in narrative? Exodus in ethics? The proverbs pithiness? The lyrics of the Psalms? The high drama of the Gospels? The Reverend stood and moved closer to the window, seeking the stars. Seeing clouds, he frowned. A coastal wind moved the clouds. One moment they were veiled, the next, exposed. The Reverend inverted his frown when one bright star revealed itself in the winter sky. His wife Sandra lay in the next room under a thick down comforter. Her white hair on a white pillow accentuated a heart-shaped face. Her eyes were open, as blue as the sun setting skies so often watched, and full of light. The comforter rose in the middle of the bed, a snow colored slope. The slope did not fit the scene. Sandra knew the dangers of pregnancy at her age, and she feared for the child. The Reverend opened her door. The bright hall light entering startled Sandra. The next contraction came just as suddenly. She told her husband it was time to go to the hospital. The cold stung the reverend's hands and he returned inside for his gloves. The hospital was on a hill directly across from the house. They descended one hill and ascended another, and were at the hospital in ten minutes. A gray-haired nurse worked the maternity desk. She inadvertently shrugged as the white-haired parents-to-be approached. She immediately regretted her unprofessional show of emotion. Sandra was taken to labor and delivery, and the Reverend to the waiting room.

The Three Wise Men

The Reverend had another window here, facing the Pacific. He watched the clouds. A slight movement of his body reversed the view, and the room behind drew into sharp focus. He watched the other two fathers-to-be. They appeared almost transparent. The older of the two, in a suit, chain-smoked unfiltered cigarettes. The younger, a marine corporal, probably up from El Toro waited with military detachment. The Reverend looked for a third. Three wooden wise men gazed at the bright star. Mary lay covered with a blanket, and the baby smiled his wooden smile. Their cotton beards blew in the breeze each time the door to the waiting room opened. A hand on his shoulder startled the Reverend. The nurse had been knocking on the window with her ring, but he did not hear. He walked to the nursery window. The nurse in white gown, cap and mask was an angel, surrounded by white light, holding the Christ child. The baby smiled, cooed, and startled the angel with a laugh. The Reverend called his son Isaac, the one who will laugh, as had Father Abraham in his old age. The child was taken to his mother and the Reverend returned to the window. Snow was falling. He watched the soft crystals float to the ground. The Reverend smiled. He thought of the snow falling in Bethlehem on a similar solstice night, long ago.

Bar Mitzvah

The canyon road meanders through the hills and spills into the Pacific. I will never forget the wonderment I felt the first time I saw the ocean at the end of the road. Not since leaving the Berkshires had I felt such peace. A stubborn twelve year old not ready to leave my transcendental forest, I had wanted to stay in Massachusetts. I was a tree cut straight off at the ground. Now I would sink roots on the highest cliff, and with each sunset count the day. That afternoon I had refused to go to Bar Mitzvah lessons. I did not believe in God. I felt cursed. I did not want to be a Jew. By the time we reached the ocean my mother convinced me to go through with the ordeal. I could not say no to a request made out of love. Yet I dreaded the day when I would have to utter incantations over a Torah I did not believe to be true. Hebrew school was punishment for unknown sins, perhaps committed in a previous life. Crimes so severe, if the punishment was any indication, as to be unimaginable. We parked on a hill to the right of the canyon. The day had cleared, and we could see all the way to Dana Point. From the gazebo on the cliff I saw glorious Pacific blues, smooth-edged gems in white, windblown settings. I was in love. The water was colder than I thought, and it took a long time to submerge. My testicles clung together against my body, like two grapes in a tight cluster. My nipples were also aroused, slightly stung by the salty water. A piece of seaweed wrapped around my ankle, and I leapt in fright. When the sun was halfway between its high point and setting my mother signaled that it was timed to go home. No way! Does a man depart from his beloved a few short hours after the meet? Somehow I convinced my mother I could get myself home. "Yes, I have money for dinner." "Yes, I have my Bar Mitzvah book, and I will practice." The tide pools were explored; each a little world. Anemones waved and aroused me. I placed my finger near the opening of the purple lips, letting it slowly probe the opening. The lips clamped around my finger, and I feared it would dissolve. I quickly removed my finger. The sun seemed to take forever to set, stretching time to its limits. A cool October wind blew in over the water and I felt chilled. I dried and draped an old Berkshire winter jacket around my shoulders. From the next cove I heard sounds as sweet as the singing of the

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern spheres. Bagpipe music. The notes were as clear as, or perhaps became, the stars. Standing on a cliff an older man slapped the bag like a baby's bottom and began another tune. At that moment I saw the Messiah for the first time. He was my age, but taller and leaner. He had his mother's eyes. He smiled at me, a content Buddha smile. I liked him from the beginning. This was surprising. Isaac's tan, and his perfect features in a heart-shaped face all sent out signals of danger to me. Large well-muscled arms ending in strong and elegant hands changed the signal from yellow to red. This was the type of California boy who would shun me, and I was ready to shun him first. Yet as I sat next to Isaac I felt an unspoken harmony echoed in the bagpipe's song. Inspired by the music, I unfolded the thin booklet that contained the major part of my Bar Mitzvah performance, the Haftorah. The Haftorah is a section of the Hebrew prophets thematically related to the weekly Torah reading. It is sung with cantillation, as are the two blessings before and after the Haftorah. Beginning the first blessing, I stopped for a moment as Isaac joined in. Isaac was also to be a Bar Mitzvah in a few months, around the time of Chanukah. I introduced myself. "I am Isaac," he said. We both smiled.

*****

The Reverend reacted calmly to Isaac's request for a Bar Mitzvah. The Reverend knew the local Rabbi, who would be discreet. The Reverend knew Isaac would want to be a Jew. He knew before his son that Isaac would become a Rabbi, wander Galilee, study in Jerusalem, and receive his revelation as God's anointed, as Jesus had, a Jew. Isaac feared his father and was stunned when his plans were not opposed. He wondered about his father's easy acquiescence.

*****

My dear friend Theophilos, lover of wisdom, lover of detail, lover of God. I must tell you now of stories of Isaac's youth which Isaac related to me, in bits and pieces on various occasions. Some of the information was told to me by teachers and librarians who still live in Laguna, and some by Isaac's mother, and some by Isaac.

Isaac was raised as a prodigy, and with his gifted mind and heart, he was able to become one. His father taught him how to read at a young age, Hebrew and English. "In the beginning" Berayshet "were the first words Isaac read in both languages. By age ten, Isaac knew the contents of both testaments and had memorized, in Hebrew much of the book of Genesis. Isaac the young child did all he could do to please his father. He was obedient and devout, and since the major demand of his father concerning learning was memorization, Isaac did well. About the time of Isaac's twelfth birthday, this changed. He was reading on his own in the library. The librarian took note of Isaac's literary appetite. Isaac also had a unique, and to the librarian, annoying style of reading. He usually broke the binding, the back, of whatever book he was reading. "Reading" is not descriptive enough. Isaac entered the book. Covers were doors to different worlds and if opened hard enough, one could enter. The Messiah loved John Steinbeck. He began with "The Red Pony" when he was young, and continued with "The Pearl." The librarian did not totally approve when he began "The Grapes of Wrath." She watched him read, his face a pantomime of the action, mirroring the plot. At the end of the book she wept along with Isaac, feeling love for the boy, and his innocence. Still, he was the Reverend's son, and she called the church to speak to the Reverend. Sophomores in junior high school are taught that a short story is as genre of literature that can be read in one sitting. Isaac decided to turn Steinbeck's novel "East of Eden" into a short story, reading it in an afternoon. Isaac asked the librarian for the "East of Eden Letters." a journal Steinbeck kept in the form of an extended letter to his editor as he worked on the novel. The novel is an interpretation of the story of Cain and Abel in the Bible. Understanding the Biblical story, which consists of sixteen terse and perplexing verses in impossible without ascertaining the precise meaning of the Hebrew word "Timshal." Isaac did a careful grammatical analysis of Steinbeck's interpretation, and found his scholarship to be admirably accurate. One of Isaac's first poems, "Chun Tzu," was inspired by, and dedicated to Steinbeck.

*****

Theophilos, the poem is included in the Psalms of Final Testament.

*****

For Isaac, the library was a church; his study, research and writing sublime worship. The meaning of the language of Holy Scripture and its exegesis was the first scholarly problem Isaac wrestled with. When he studied with his father he felt rigidity in the Reverend's approach to the text. The words were chiseled in stone. His father, even when he allowed scriptural interpretation, taught one true monolithic fundamental biblical reality. Isaac found a more creative approach in Louis Ginsberg's "Legend of the Jews." Rabbi Shalom Spiegel introduces the book, which records hundreds of interpretations of each verse. The Rabbi uses the example of a Mollusk to explain the process of Jewish textual exegesis, Midrash - Pearls. Textual irritants Isaac was aware of were also irritating to the Rabbis. These irritants are as the grains of sand that enter the shell of the Mollusk. Isaac smiled at the "unkosher" metaphor. Scriptural irritants produce the Pearls that the Rabbis call "Midrash." Each question, each grain of sand, may produce a pearl. Isaac had discovered a creative way to read text. He now had a method to answer his many questions. The three accounts of creation in Genesis, an irritant to every fundamentalist, Isaac explained, means that creation, and perhaps all of scripture, can be understood from more than one viewpoint.

Isaac explained his discovery to me on a Sunday afternoon when we met to swim, explore the tide pools, and practice our Haftorahs. I was excited to learn that I did not have to take the Biblical text literally. This had not been taught in Hebrew school. Nor was it explained by the Rabbi training me for my Bar Mitzvah. Isaac felt his father knew about Midrash, and could not understand why he hid this key from him. When he and the Reverend studied together, the Reverend would admit to no contradictions, so Isaac was unable to share the wealth of the Pearls of interpretation he created to reconcile the contradictions. For Isaac, the text was now a living literature, and he found increasingly trying, the study sessions with his father.

Confirmation

By the time I met Isaac he had been placed in the confirmation class in the Sunday school at his father's church. The other students were sophomores and juniors at the local high school. The class was taught by his father. The Reverend's first class, his lesson book indicated, would be "an inspiring introduction on how to read the Holy Scriptures." The Reverend stood in front of the class and smiled benignly. The students admired their spiritual leader. They listened with great respect.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "Is the Bible, as some would say, a simple story book? A book for children? Are its inspired words the words of idle dreamers and tellers of tales, like those of literature? Are the Biblical characters, like the actors in a Broadway play, the product of imagination? We all know the answers to these questions. No, No, No and again, No!" All of the students except Isaac nodded their agreement. "Know," the Reverend continued vehemently, with the cadences of his best sermon voice, "that the Bible, the most beloved and read book in history, is not a mere book, but the book of books. Not a story, but a story above all stories. A testament to the days when Jesus walked on this Earth as God in the flesh only to deliver himself into the hands of the non-believers so that in his death we would all, forevermore, be forgiven our sins." Some of the students uttered a solemn "Amen." Isaac sat silently. The Reverend began to direct the lesson towards his son: "The Bible is not an account of words, but a chronicle of the Word. The miracles worked through the Word are a testimony to the authenticity and truth of scripture. Only those with the mind of a child could read scripture as they read a story book." Isaac wondered how his father sensed his disagreement. The Reverend searched his mind for an example to refute the storybook interpretation of the bible. He chose the Book of Jonah. "The fate of Jonah can be understood by any Christian who has faith. Three days in the belly of the whale--then regurgitated and resurrected, Jonah was reborn." "By faith all is possible through the hands of the Lord." At first Isaac could not take his eyes off his father. The hands waving, the arms outstretched to make a point and upraised to indicate Jonah's resurrection. To avoid his father's stare, Isaac looked out the window. The Reverend stood over Isaac and stared down at him. "Couldn't" Isaac began, clearing his throat, still afraid to look at his father, "couldn't the `dag gadol' the great fish which swallowed Jonah be a symbol of Jonah's isolation? Jonah's attempt, in his loneliness to hide from himself and his mission?" The Reverend, with a forced smile, answered. "Perhaps Jonah was lonely--with no Christ to turn towards--no church for shelter." The Reverend was pleased with his extemporaneous exegesis. The students all thought this would end the disputation. But Isaac spoke again. "From what you are saying we can assume that the lesson of Jonah is that without Christ or the Church, God heard Jonah's prayers and forgave him?" The Reverend stared at his son with controlled rage. He could not understand the motives of his stubborn and rebellious son. "Your understanding is not in the spirit of the text. It is unchristian. Do you think the three days in the whale's stomach is an arbitrary number? These three days foreshadow the Passion of our Lord--three days from crucifixion to resurrection."

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Isaac laughed. "Why exclude my point of view? Scripture is a stone that gives off many sparks when hit with a hammer. What for you in its literal sense is a story about a real whale, is in my opinion, a story like every story of literature and open to many levels of interpretation. The great fish, I think, is a symbol. It is a sign, pointing to far deeper meaning," The enraged Reverend's face crimsoned. He opened his Bible in front of Isaac and pushed it towards him. The Reverend then shoved the Bible hard into Isaac's face shouting "Read it, Read it! My son reads the Bible as a book of symbols and signs." "A sign." the Reverend repeated, so he could think. "Yes, the scriptures are a sign. The truths of scripture are highway signs--Jesus Christ--the Way. But the signs are clear and straightforward--as they are written." This was shouted in Isaac's face. The bell rang, punctuating his point. Isaac sat full of fear, and shaking. Blood dripped from his nose, first on his shirt, then into his open Bible. Isaac looked at the stained page. He was not convinced.

Isaac found the silence oppressive. He was excommunicated by his father for his insolence. The Reverend spoke to him only about the most mundane necessities. When Isaac entered a room, his father left. Isaac's mother was the intermediary. She agreed with her son but kept silent, attempting to negotiate family peace.

The Story of Life

The Reverend did not speak to his son for over a year. All this time Isaac feared his Bar Mitzvah lessons would be stopped. The Reverend never even mentioned the lessons. It was Isaac who broke the silence. He shut the door behind himself in his father's study. The Reverend was staring at the Rembrandt prints on the wall. Isaac convinced his father to give him another chance. The confirmation class, now mainly high school seniors, had asked for their religious education to be extended another year, and that the Reverend teach this advanced seminar. The community was rightly proud of their students, their Reverend, and the Church. The class was scheduled and Isaac was cautiously told that he could attend the first class. The Reverend began class the same way he began his Divinity thesis at the end of his seminary days,. "In the beginning God created the Heavens and the Earth, and In the beginning was the Word The Word was with God And the Word was God All things were made by Him No one thing existed except through Him."

"The Gospel poetically explains that Christ was with God in the beginning when time and history began." "Who is the author of this passage?" An uneasy silence was broken when one student answered softly, "John." When he noticed who answered, the Reverend smiled and said, "Well Isaac, it's good to see someone is keeping up with their scriptural readings." Isaac smiled back, feeling the first warmth from his father in over a year.

The Reverend's class was modeled on the work of Love that had been his thesis, Genesis and Jesus: Old Testament Motifs in the New Testament. The use of language in his thesis had been superb; a moving poetic exegesis whose theme was the foreshadowing of the coming of the life of Christ in the book of Genesis. Each week, various episodes were explained, such as this Sunday's explanation of Noah and his ark in terms of Christ and the Church. Isaac found this class to contain his father's finest teachings. The students and the Reverend sensed Isaac's interest and all were pleased. The former skeptic was mainly silent. He was invited to next Sunday's class. Isaac made comments, but rarely asked questions. His father explained Hebrew words for Isaac. The other students did not understand but they did not mind, and were proud of their Reverend, his son, and this new found peace. Isaac's interest in class was heightened when he realized that next week they would begin the story of his Biblical namesake.

Genesis 22

Isaac immersed himself in the narrative. He studied the Hebrew with Rabbinic commentators. He looked into the text as often as his peers looked into mirrors. The gilded edges of his English bible were losing their luster. Isaac had many questions for next Sunday's study session on Abraham and Sarah. The Reverend, sensing a change in Isaac, called on him to read: And the Lord visited Sarah as He had said, and the Lord did unto Sarah as He had spoken. For Sarah conceived and bore Abraham a son in his old age." The Reverend thought of the night Isaac was born. Isaac asked, without defiance or mocking: "What does it mean that God visited Sarah? How was it physically possible for Abraham and Sarah to have a child in their old age?" The Reverend's smile put the class at ease. You ask a question worthy of an answer. Turn to Hebrews 11:11." The students were in awe of the Reverend's ability to quote extemporaneously, pertinent Biblical passages. Isaac himself was impressed. The Reverend placed his hand on his son's shoulder and smiled a 'Jehovah smile' down on his son.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "Through faith," the Reverend quoted, "through faith also Sarah herself received strength to conceive and was delivered of a child when she was past age, because she judged Him faithful who had promised." "This faith," the Reverend added, "helped Mary mother the Son of God." The Reverend had Isaac read further on the dismissal of Hagar and Ishmael and the incident of Abraham and Avi-Melech at Beersheva. Then Isaac read Chapter Twenty-two on the Test and Temptation of Father Abraham. Isaac read the text slowly in English, trying to remember the Hebrew original. He paused often, expressing his bewilderment at God's command and Abraham's compliance. The class read wonderment on Isaac's face. They anticipated another scene as Isaac asked his father: "What is the meaning of this drama? I find it frightening." The Reverend turned to move closer and face his son. His eyes had the far off look of a desert wanderer. At the moment the Reverend was riding with Abraham to Moriah. Returning from the journey, he said: "Yes my son - he who understands this scripture understands the story of life."

*****

Isaac and I met at our spot in the beach. We discussed his father's class. I brought out my Haftorah booklet. "Two weeks to go." Isaac rubbed his hands against the chill of the wind. "I am not going to be Bar Mitzvah," Isaac said. My mouth fell open. Isaac explained: "I'm not ready." "What do you mean?" "I would rather not talk about it. Anyway -- you know I am Bar Mitzvah with or without the performance." Isaac finally admitted, "I'm not sure I'm ready to be a Jew." I could not contain my disappointment, but sensing Isaac's anguish, dropped my interrogation. I did ask: "You will come to mine?" "Yes, I will come to your Bar Mitzvah."

Fragments

Any description of Isaac's adolescence appears a caricature. Isaac maintained an "A" average. He captained the basketball and baseball teams and was the fastest sprinter on the track team. (He refused to play football!) The remainder of his time he spent on Biblical research and discovering his sexuality. Isaac was the hero and golden boy of Laguna Beach. I was only able to temper my jealousy with my love for Isaac. Isaac's accomplishments, even in

*****

The Reverend was pleased with his son. He felt himself to be a fine sculptor, his creation as fair as Michelangelo's David. The Reverend wanted no flaw in the rock his son was cut from. And Isaac, out of fear and respect, submerged the soul living in that rock. When he was a freshman, however, Isaac let his hair grow past his shoulders. This innocent act was considered defiant and rebellious in the early Sixties. His hair was astonishing -- curls danced around his face, flowing in the ocean breezes like windblown waves, breaking in the shore of his shoulders. Isaac's coaches were adamant. The principal and board, meeting in an ad hoc session, voted to uphold the school's rule. During the week of the meetings, Isaac let his beard grow. This was an impossibility. The Reverend was called. Isaac and I continued to meet almost every Sunday afternoon. He described the crisis his hair and beard stirred up. His beard was scraggly. He sensed my curiosity. "They voted to make an exception." "Why?" I asked. "I imagine winning teams outweighed a few ounces of this sheep's fleece in their scales of justice." "And your father?" "That," Isaac exclaimed, "is a mystery. He supported my right as an individual to grow my hair as long as I pleased." We would watch the sunset on a rock directly below the gazebo on Vista Point. As the sun descended, we would read and discuss the Torah, or read to each other from our favorite poets, including T.S. Eliot, Walt Whitman, and Wordsworth. Isaac was also fond of the sermons of John Donne. I preferred Donne's poetry and the short stories of Sherwood Anderson. The sun worshipers and sea riders left before the sunset, and Isaac and I were alone in our cathedral whose roof was the sky. A minyan of seagulls stood on the rock beyond the tide pools. Their wings swaying in the wind, they joined us in our prayers.

*****

Dear Theophilos, The description of Isaac's birth is Midrash. We visited his father in his study on only two occasions. I knew the Reverend only from these visits and in his later life from the Sunday

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern sermons he preached on local television. My conversations with Isaac on the beach I chronicle from experience, but the past fades into a coastal fog. The finals, the conversion attempt and the switch, however, I remember almost as clearly as the day they happened.

Conversion

Mr. Grove signed the permission slip allowing me to enter his advanced placement English class. I earned that honor by joining the Forensic team he coached. I was on the debate team, practicing in original oratory. Grove used the English class as a sophisticated, literary entrance into Christianity. By the end of my senior year Grove converted ten of the twelve of the Jews in the class. He was a one man campus crusade for Christ. We began with John Updike. "Archangel" and "Lifeguard" in his Pigeon Feathers collection. Then on to T.S. Eliot. "The Love Song of Alfred J. Prufrock." It had been read to me by Isaac on the beach. We rolled our blue jeans up, and Isaac withdrew a peach from his pocket as he read: "I hear the mermaids singing each to each" He cupped his hand to his ear, "And now I hear them sing to me." Grove did not assign Prufrock. We discussed the existential despair of "The Hollow Men," and went on to "Choruses from the Rock." Eliot's conversion moved me--but not to Christ. I was infatuated with the language. I was one of the two Grove did not convert. My own father was busy supporting five children, and I spent many afternoons at Groves after Speech. At first we did not discuss Christianity. Grove, I realized today, wanted to develop a close, father-son relationship before he converted me. I spent almost every day after school at Grove's. We did everything together. One day, Grove twisted his ankle playing handball. He noticed me examining his leg and crutch grips. "I am a cripple," he said, with the dramatic flair that comes naturally to a Speech coach. "And I'm not embarrassed to admit that I need a spiritual crutch." I looked again at Grove and the crutch. "I," I said, turning towards the apartment, "am not a cripple." Inside Grove's apartment the Debate and Speech team sat in a circle practicing, I thought, for the finals in San Diego at the end of the semester. They looked up at me with expectation and knew Grove had not moved me from my spiritual inertia. I sat in the circle, arms folded into myself. The students joined hands, and I felt my hands on either side become a part of the human chain. Grove began: "I pray you all receive the inspiration to win." Grove hobbled to his seat, sat, and continued. "Lord, teach us to love you as you love us, remove the veil from

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern the darkened glass, and show us your face. Teach us to walk--and to run--the good race." My debate partner got to the point of the prayer session. "Heavenly Father, we are all cogs in this wheel that spins to do Your will. Send strength to each of us, to each cog, to strengthen this circle." Noticing my grimace at his metaphor, my versatile partner tried a more poetic approach: "God--open all our hearts to your divine love and grace. Let us all acknowledge Jesus, so we can speak to you face to face." "Will you accept Jesus," he asked me, "as your personal savior?" All of my friends looked at me with sincerity and love. I felt the circle tightening around me. I did not want to close myself off from its limits. These were my friends. "God," I began with difficulty, "Help my friends understand that my love for them knows no boundaries." I felt expectations in the grips of the students to my left and right. I broke my hands out of the circle. "Open their hearts to accept me as I am. I must serve God in my own way. I don't know. I don't even know what it means to be a Jew." The circle broke as I quickly fled Grove's apartment.

The Finals

I was among the finalists with other original orators in Western Forensic competition. Among them was Isaac. After a simple lottery I was scheduled to speak second. Isaac would give the last speech. The first oration was given by a teammate and I had heard it many times during practice. Isaac listened intently. Suddenly the first speech was over and I was up. I stepped to the front of the class and dramatically threw my arm in the Nazi salute: "Deutschland Deutschland "uber alles," I cried, and went on to describe the genesis of the Nazi cult in Germany. I cannot find the original speech in the places I keep such things, but I remember the general content. I discussed the collective responsibility of the German people along with their leader Adolph Hitler for the world-wide holocaust that was World War II. I made the speech personal by describing the journeys of six Jews in my family who escaped, very late, from the Nazi inferno. The death of six million no person can comprehend. The near death of six Jews I described made the events real. The Jews of Germany, among them my grandfather, refused to believe. My father, not yet ten years old in the late nineteen thirties did. He cried that he wanted to leave. He had seen Hitler youth not much older than himself grab old Jews by their heals and smash them against walls. The loud Hollywood Gestapo knock finally came to their door. My grandfather was taken away. My grandmother secreted my father and his older brother into

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern France and then Switzerland. Zadie escaped, somehow, under the loaves of bread in a bakery truck at a deportation center and rejoined the family in Switzerland. A few seconds difference, I told the listeners, and I would not be giving this oration. A disturbance down the street forced the Gestapo to skip their routine search of my grandparents' home. Knowing Isaac was among the finalists, I gave my speech emotionally and dramatically. The next speech was by my debate partner, the evangelist. It was in the Grove style with a dramatic introduction to catch the judges' attention. "What the world needs now is love sweet love, that's the only thing that there's just too little of." He actually sang these lines and then asked, rhetorically of course, what type of love the world needed. Certainly not Eros. "Eros is on the throne again," he shouted, echoing an idea that I knew must have been added by Grove. Isaac grimaced as my partner exalted Agape and trampled on Eros. The speech continued with an appeal to us to understand the utter incompatibility of Philos and Eros. The way my partner glanced at Isaac I doubted his sincerity. Isaac did not notice. The speech ended with a call back to the divine love of Agape. The speech was well delivered but I had the same feelings now that I did after hearing a slick T.V. evangelist. He sure said it well, but what did he say? The fourth speech about Poltergeist was unmemorable. Isaac was up now. He began in a way that was startling after all the afternoon dramatics. He passed out pencils and pieces of paper with the numbers one to ten on them to the judges and contestants. Isaac asked us all to please make a list of the Ten Commandments. He waited patiently as we fumbled with our pencils, stared at each other and at the wall, looking anywhere for clues to help us with this impossible quiz. Isaac assured us that we should not be embarrassed that we could not list many or most of the Commandments. Isaac explained that the question of fundamental commandments was explored by ancient sages and then read the following poem which formed the body of his speech:

On One Foot

Dear Theophilos, You will find Isaac's poem in the Psalm section of this Testament.

My partner's speech on Love took third. I was surprised to hear Isaac's speech called for second. I was sure I was out of the running. One of the judges of the final round called my name for first place. Isaac should have won. I wanted to get Isaac's attention to tell him so, and compliment him on his novel interpretation of the Midrash. I had always felt before that Ben

*****

Isaac completed all the advanced placement courses his high school offered as a junior. He was granted early graduation and accepted at Princeton. He entered Princeton a second semester sophomore with his extra credits. I would see Isaac only two more times before he left for the university.

The Gardener and the Indians

On occasion an April day is born on the Southern California coast with promises of perfection. The rising sun finds no cloud or fog to dissipate, and the aqua waves shimmer in her light, a liquid sapphire. The sea is clear to the island of Catalina. A Shiloh (Sealah) day.

*****

From the lagoon the gardener walked his traditional path from the shore up the gently twisting trail to Vista Point. He felt himself part of the perfection on that awakening April day. Surrounding the restaurant on the Point were his gardens. The roses were planted in a pattern that rolled with the earth towards the sea. The gardener's hands had shaped the furrows that surrounded each bush in its bed. Approaching the top of the trail he stopped and quietly looked upon his garden as though he feared he would awaken his sleeping children. Isaac and I watched this morning ritual from the gazebo. The gardener wore a dark green shirt, and pants the color of the earth he lovingly worked. No hat was needed to cover the thick black hair. In his hand he carried his lunch in a paper bag which was refolded each day for the next day's meal. He took no food from the restaurant for which he worked, but only the rich brown Mexican beer the color of his skin. Standing now in the midst of his garden he himself appeared to be planted in the ground, a living tree of life at one with his world. Isaac had watched this morning mass many times before. The gardener did not work Sundays, and I watched for the first time. Isaac laughed at our intensity in observing this simple man. "My fantasy," he confided, "is to apprentice myself to this gardener. Then I would always be close to the earth and this point, which he has made sacred ground."

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Isaac's dreams in those days were always set on this land. "When I ride through the canyon I am drawn to the caves in the sides of the hills. I remember the days when sheep roamed the hills, and I am their shepherd." Isaac loved to talk of the Indians who once lived in Laguna, and from him I learned their lore: "Before the intrusion of the Payamkuchum, the people lived a simple existence in houses thatched of tule, willow, and elder, with ash for the skeleton bows. During the warm season they camped in this lagoon. The Indian watched for the porpoises, whom they considered the guardians of the world. They loved to swim in this lake of tears and to gather from her waters urchins, abalone, cuttlefish and sea cucumbers, which they gathered in their masterfully woven baskets." "Chinigchinich, their Jehovah like deity, was all powerful, all mighty, and ever present in all places - but no one could see him. Also like Jehovah, Chinigchinich did not tolerate disobedience." "Him who obeyeth me not, or believeth not in my teachings I will chastise. I will send bears to bite, serpents to sting, misfortune, infirmities and death," Isaac quoted from their teachings. "The people were more gentle than their God. They had the souls and innocence of infants." "The spirits of these people return to haunt Laguanaites even if they are ignorant of their legacy." Isaac laughed. "My high school friends believe they have hatched a new breed of sin, offering marijuana as a liberating conscious expanding aphrodisiac. Their smoking visions are dull, however, compared to those of the Indians' jimson weed." The Temescals, the sweat lodges of the natives, have been rediscovered even by the pillars of the community who perspire away their new richness in their saunas." "The homosexual bars are filled with modern day versions of the Indian transvestites and tattooed ladies." "Chinigchinich," Isaac concluded, "was worshiped not in neat well gardened churches, but in dances of ecstasy and abandon." I sat in amazement as Isaac chanted their song, "The Song of the Spirit:"

"At that time when I found the end of the past is death I was aghast.

All was falling.

My home I was sad to leave.

I have been looking for my eyes to be guided

I send my spirit North, South, East, and West

Attempting to see in which direction lay escape.

I found nothing."

"Such despair," I said. Isaac disagreed. "I don't think it is a song of despair as much as it is a song of awakening. The Indians believed in an afterlife - but knowing the goodness and richness of this life before death, they respected death, and did their best to live fully before she beckoned." I was not sure I agreed with Isaac's understanding of the Indians, and thought perhaps he made them over into his own image, but I was silent.

*****

The present I had prepared was a simple bit of news. Next year I would graduate from Hebrew high school. I had kept up my Torah studies and could read Midrash, Aggadah, Mishnah and even a bit of Talmud. At U.C.L.A. I would major in biology and minor in Hebrew. I'm not sure why I kept this hidden from Isaac the way a parent hides Christmas presents from children. Isaac's reaction was exuberant and childlike. "I am really delighted - really!" Isaac told me his plans. That summer he would live with the Northern Nevada Paiute on the Walker Lake Indian Reservation. Nothing surprised me about Isaac, but I remember asking, surprised, "Why?" I was jealous and hurt. We would not spend the summer together. "A Paiute Indian the white man called Jack Wilson, and the Indians called Wovaka, appeared to his people and other Indian nations near the end of their holocaust with a new religious vision. They danced a great dance they called 'The Ghost Dance' and I must learn it." At the time I did not know who Isaac was, and his answer did not completely make sense. Isaac was beginning to be aware of his destiny and did not resist those gentle shoves of fate which pushed him in that direction.

*****

Theophilos,

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern My friend, I know you will understand why I must chronicle all the details of Isaac's ascent to manhood. This is the chapter the old-age religious leaders will find most objectionable. Our conversation, my friend, concerns the truth and we shall not worry about the approbations and nihal obstats of the clergy.

The Switch

June was foggy and cool, as was the day in June when I would last see Isaac during our high school years. Isaac's date for his graduation prom was a blonde cheerleader - the beach bunny type we described as "bitchen" in those days. I cannot remember her name. Isaac finagled an invitation for me. My date came more for the food and view from the Victor Hugo than for my company. Isaac and I were pleased to be in the restaurant we had viewed so often from the outside. We looked for our gardener in his rose garden through the large scenic picture window, but he had gone home.

Isaac ate no meat and this quickly became the topic of table conversation. Isaac's date ordered a rack of lamb, and my date, not to be outdone, ordered the same. We explained they could share one order. In honor of the view, I ordered a seafood platter. The restaurant was unused to vegetarians and Isaac settled for a salad. "Why don't you eat meat?" my date asked Isaac between mouthfuls. Isaac did not want to spoil their dinner, but after he was pressed by her, answered: "The pieces of carcass neatly packaged in cellophane in the supermarket make it too easy to forget the life that was sacrificed to produce the stew, steak and hamburger. The butchers often start cutting their hooked bodies before the animal is dead." Now she was sorry she had asked. "I might consider eating the flesh of an animal I ran down and killed with my own two hands, but not a neatly packaged sacrificial lamb or mournful cow." At dinner's end, both our dates cleared their plates with a number of oversweet, overpriced, French pastries. The prom was a dull and formal affair. Stuffed with lamb and pastry, my date did not want to dance fast. She was even less graceful than I, slow dancing. I was pleased when Isaac tapped me on the shoulder indicating it was time to take our dates home. We dropped them at their houses. On the pretense of visiting U.C.L.A., we headed towards Westwood. I was driving my father's new LeMans. Isaac pulled a thick, well-packed joint out of his tuxedo pocket and rolled it between his lips on both ends. "Isaac, you know I'm paranoid about marijuana in public. I can't smoke and drive at the same time." I pulled over; Isaac drove. Isaac drove onto the main campus after driving through Westwood Village. Most students had completed finals and were on their way, or already home. Two well-shaped coeds who had completed

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern finals that day celebrated the year's end with pizza and a large pitcher of beer. They were leaving the pizza shop and debating whether to walk or take a taxi to their apartment as we drove around the corner. Isaac pulled to the curb, walked around the front of the car, and opened both doors on the passenger side of the LeMans. "Ladies," he said in his most sincere voice, "may we offer you a ride home?" I got out of the car. The girls looked at Isaac and I dressed in our formal tuxedos and giggled. They wore short cutoff jeans. One wore an Indian peasant blouse. The other a U.C.L.A. athletic department T-shirt. The taller of the two, a blonde, had the long legs of a high hurdler. She met eye to eye Isaac's direct uninhibited stare, and defiantly followed me into the back seat. Her friend, shorter, well muscled and more the sprinter type got in front with Isaac. Isaac turned the corner again and reentered the main campus. He parked under a full foliaged tree, well away from the street lamps. Almost before we stopped, the blonde reached over and caressed my face between her long slender fingers. The last thing I noticed was Isaac positioning the rearview mirror so he could observe the scene in the back seat. The blonde introduced herself as Jennifer and offered me her sweetest R-rated smile. Her lips were full and sensuous, especially for a tall slender lady. She leaned over again, pulled my face close, and gently parted my lips with her tongue. . Isaac lifted the "athlete's" shirt and deftly slipped his hand inside her bra. His other hand reached for the zipper on her jeans, but her strong hand guarded that entrance, making it clear to him that he was no High Priest to enter that secret place. Still, they French-kissed passionately, and Isaac gently stroked her thighs and then the narrow strip of denim fabric over her crotch. Jennifer unbuttoned the rivet on the top of her shorts. In my shyness I was overcome by passivity. Jennifer, sensing a neophyte, pushed me down on the back seat and placed her long body on top of mine. She was also a gentle lady, and was not about to rape a young man she realized was either a high school student or the last male virgin at U.C.L.A. All of us were surprised, including, I think, Isaac, when he said. "Let's switch." I did not believe what I heard. The athlete, fearing she would have to equal her roommate's performance with Isaac, was more than happy to move to the back seat. Jennifer startled me when she actually leaped over the seat into the front. The athlete hugged me strongly, feeling safe in my passive arms. I heard the sounds of zippers simultaneously unzipping in the front seat. Jennifer's head disappeared as she bent over and nuzzled into Isaac's lap. Isaac leaned his head back and his hair fell over his shoulders into the back seat. I woke to the sound of the front door closing. Jennifer leaned over and gently shook her friend's shoulder. Her breasts were fully exposed under her shirt. She gently kissed me on the cheek

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern and they brushed against me. Isaac asked me to move to the front. I refused. We drove in silence. He parked near Vista Point, walked by the Victor Hugo, now long closed, past the garden and out to the gazebo. After a few minutes I left the back seat, walked out to the gazebo and turned Isaac around so I could speak to him face to face. He placed his hands on my shoulders, preventing me from following through on my anger and taking a swing at him. "How do you feel about what you did?" I asked in my best social worker voice. "I don't feel good at all." "Why not?" "Well, you are obviously angry, for one, and I don't even know her name." "Her name was Jennifer," I said. "Also," Isaac added, "I don't feel good about joining in a sacred union with a woman I will never see again." I laughed at Isaac's penitent sadness. I forgave him, and myself, and we laughed together.

University

Isaac's letters always began with inquiries about the personal well-being of me and my family. He then described the courses he was enrolled in, and his reaction to their ideas. He was registered as a Physics major and minor, but encountered difficulties in the liberal arts. Literature, Psychology, Sociology, History, and the required courses in those disciplines he considered a dismal desecration of his time. The readings he could do without the formality of the classroom. He did not like the dull repetition of text in lecture by the professor or graduate assistant. When Isaac Socratically questioned an idea or asked for a definition of terms, he was treated as an annoyance. One professor had the audacity to give Isaac a "C" in a course in which he "aced" the final because of what he called Isaac's "extremely rude classroom decorum." Isaac had called the professor, who taught Russian history exclusively from a Marxist point of view, a "romantic Marxist historyosopher." The Dean, after evaluating the evidence, demanded the professor give Isaac the grade he earned. Isaac was not at home in the so-called scientific methodology of the liberal arts. The required literature courses actually slowed Isaac's progress in the worlds of the short story and novel. The professor of a course on "The Bible as Literature" he found to be, in his own way, as dogmatic as his own father. Isaac enrolled in a number of religious study courses and was also disappointed. He would learn about Zen Buddhism in the monastery. He did not want to memorize the names of the Sufi mystics, but to join them in their chanting of Allah's name.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Isaac preferred his time in the Physics lab and concentrated on mastering spoken dialects of semitic languages in the language lab. He learned to sit quietly in his other courses, absorb the facts, regurgitate on the exams, and promptly forget the information, like his classmates. Isaac was lonely. While there were no shortages of 'Jennifers' in the late 60's, Isaac wanted a permanent relationship. He remained at Princeton summers, wasted no time, completed an overloaded schedule, and graduated in June of 1970.

*****

My senior year of high school I moved into the garage of our overcrowded home, worked as a bag boy in a local supermarket, and applied to the University of California - Los Angeles and Berkeley. I remained on the debate team, but not wanting to limit my contact with Grove, dropped original oratory. I was one of a handful of students who argued with conviction against our involvement in Vietnam in competition. Orange County is John Birch Society country. The few students who agreed that Vietnam was an unjust war were polarized by the far right Birch views and catapulted to the far left. One or two of them went on to become student leaders in the underground weatherman cult of the Students for a Democratic Society. Others worked fervently for the nomination of Eugene McCarthy on the Democratic ticket. I was with these students at McCarthy headquarters in Los Angeles the evening Robert Kennedy was slain. My friends in S.D.S. would soon be responsible for dynamiting a bank and other domestic violence. I would have no part of their violent anarchy. In the Spring of 1969, I hitchhiked to Berkeley to see if I could find a place for myself at that esteemed and now notorious university. Standing on campus, facing west, I was overwhelmed by the same strong quality and sanctity of space I always felt at Laguna. I filled my lungs with the Pacific breeze. The Golden Gate Bridge was really golden, shining in the sun.

I ate at a German hofbrau, listened to political debates at a Mediterranean style cafe, and had no plans on where I would sleep the night. Turning off Telegraph Avenue, I found a park between Dwight and Haste Avenues. Students were putting the finishing touches on flowers and shrubs they planted in a rich black sod hauled from a nearby nursery. They also built a small recreational area for children. I unrolled my sleeping bag and asked a student if it was okay to spend the night. "Why not," he answered, "this is the people's park." I was awakened before dawn by a Berkeley cop and the construction

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern crew he accompanied. The crew was large and had orders from the University's chancellor to work quickly. I splashed water from my Bota on my face, rubbed the sleep from my eyes and watched the construction workers from the steps of the Berkeley Inn. Within hours they dug holes, set the posts, and unraveled and erected an eight foot cyclone fence around People's Park. The Chancellor's actions were certainly within the law. The land was University property, purchased for over one million dollars for married students' housing. Initially he had seen no reason why the land could not be used for a park before the University began construction. However, when a University advisory committee on student housing recommended the land be donated to the people of the community for their park, he nervously ordered the construction of the fence. The people sent negotiators to discuss the future of the park, but found the institution did not consider its "turnabout" open to public debate. By the late afternoon thousands of demonstrators headed down Telegraph Avenue towards the park. I found myself in the midst of this historic battle for People's Park, being encamped in, then evicted from, its verdant lap. Yet I will not claim the right to speak with authority, clarity, or finality on the battle. The University was within its right, but acted with the stone cold emotionless insensitivity of the institution. The people were overwhelmed by the symbol of the metal fence. It grew into a monster fence, perhaps a symbol of the fence of lies our government constructed about United States involvement in Vietnam. The people reacted to it with the mindless logic of the mob. I kept well to the rear of the demonstrators, content not to be the crowd's eyes or ears, but among the flank. If I were a historian of this battle, I could chronicle one fact with unreserved conviction. Ronald (Obey Authority) Reagan reacted with deadly overkill, keeping his promise to "clean up the mess at Berkeley." Sixty seven people were injured, one blinded, and one killed by Reagan's forces. To this day the University has not erected its housing on the land that was People's Park. I was sickened by the entire event, and enrolled at U.C.L.A.

I understood Isaac's observations on Princeton only after my freshman year at U.C.L.A. The courses in my Biology major I enjoyed; Botany and Animal Physiology. The Hebrew classes were accelerated and challenging and I spent many hours in the language lab. The liberal arts courses were a disappointment, but I tolerated them along with hundreds of others with student military deferments. The courses were better than a trip to Vietnam. The professor of a class on Aristotle was herself, as emotionless as a

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Greek statue. The mountains of information in the survey courses I approached as a modern day Sisyphus. One professor stands out academically. He may even remember me. The seminar in Jewish philosophy he taught was for upperclassmen and graduate students. No one questioned my presence, perhaps because my beard made me look older than my years. Many students dropped the course after the first lecture. They were intimidated by a lecturer who spoke one and one-half hours without notes while smoking cigarettes in the old German manner, pinched between thumb and index finger. He held the white burning cylinder straight up and down when he was not drawing its smoke deep into his lungs. Often I did not take notes, especially if I felt the information was to be found in the class text. I always did an overview reading of the texts before the course began, in this case, Guttman, Husik, and other surveys of Jewish intellectual history, and of course, Gershan Scholem's Major Trends of Jewish Mysticism. The professor was not recapitulating textbook concepts, but giving his own views of the major currents of Jewish philosophy. He had the scholastic honesty to say "in my opinion" when offering a novel viewpoint. I filled eleven college-ruled pages of notes the first lecture alone. The professor assigned an optional paper at midterm. I received a "B" on the first exam and wanted to pull my grade up to an "A". From the lecture and readings I perceived two forces in Jewish history which I called the Messianic and the Mundane. I wrote a paper without footnotes, and submitted my speculations for credit. After the next lecture the professor called out my name and asked me to speak to him after class. We entered his office and he returned my paper. I found no grade on the front and turned to the end page. Also no grade. "I cannot give you credit for this essay." "Why not?" He answered my question with a question, "Do you know the meaning of the Greek Sophomore?" "No," I said, confused, thinking he had learned of my lower level status. "In ten years," he said, "after learning Ugaritic, Aramaic, Arabic, German, French, and the original sources on your theme in their original languages, and Einstein's Theory of Relativity, then you can submit such a paper to me, but then, properly footnoted." I retold this conversation to Isaac years later. I understood, I explained, the need to be able to read original source material, but not his insistence that I learn the Theory of Relativity. "I think the professor was charmed by your theory," Isaac explained, "and simply wished that you had a proper Germanic background before welling forth with new ideas. The paper had not been necessary. I reviewed many times two full notebooks of lecture and textual outline, and earned one of two "A"'s in the course. One other professor I remember, but I am unable to objectively evaluate her teaching skills because of our

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern personal relationship. I do not even remember the content of the first lecture because of her physical presence. Professor Sheila Baldwin was an eclectic amalgamation of all the tribes she had studied. She had a strong sturdy build with broad shoulders and thick well muscled legs. Her skirt was a colorful African print that reached to mid-thigh on one side and angled down to her knee on the other. Only the embroidered colors of her cotton blouse matched the provocative skirt. A full-plumed bird perched on her back, and in miniature on two pockets which covered each breast. In her apartment, as lavishly eclectic and eccentric as its inhabitant, she explained, as she unbuttoned the shirt, that it was the male of the species which displayed such brilliant plumage. "The Quetzal is the national bird of Guatemala and is not found in any zoo anywhere. It is," she said, as I admired the shirt and her milk-white breasts, "the ultimate symbol of freedom because it does not live in captivity." I blushed as bright as the Quetzal's plumage when Sheila noticed me staring at her hardening nipples. She laughed and told me I could have her, and the shirt, as she wrapped her arms around my neck. The next lecture I also had difficulty focusing on the principles of anthropological research. Sheila explained the need for open mindedness and empathy when examining alien cultures. She explained why the word "primitive," used as a pejorative in our culture, was a misnomer. We were warned of the pitfall of viewing other societies only from the perspective of the values of our own culture, which in its most malignant form is called ethnocentrism. These were the only notes I took during the entire lecture. I heard Sheila's voice giving the lecture, but also heard, in melodic undertones, that same voice whispering to me as we made love. I watched her lips forming the words, remembering the sweetness. I noticed, as if for the first time, her soft pleasant face and fine silken hair. A woven band kept it out of her eyes. On the side of the band was a single feather of the eagle. The professor did not give a damn what anyone thought about her affair with a student. She initiated affection even in public, and in front of her colleagues. I was able to research a unique anthropological phenomenon - my own Coming of Age in Westwood Village. I was taught in lecture and in lab, various exotic techniques from the Amazons to the Zulus

On to Earthly Jerusalem

The day of my last final as a sophomore, while I was packing for summer vacation, I received a letter from Isaac. I wanted to read the letter in Laguna and tucked it away into my pocket. The afternoon sun descending, I pulled off the freeway onto the old Indian trail that is now the Laguna Canyon Road. The Winter and Spring had seen no rain. The hills I remembered as green were faded, dull, dry and brown.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Still, I felt like Adam in the Garden, ready to name every animal and shrub, to give them substance and existence. The black willows, canyon oaks and leafed maple were still green, especially in contrast to the hills, nurtured by their deep roots. Chamise and goldenrod hugged the rim of a pond visible from the road. Wildrose, jimson, shooting stars and golden stars, which blanketed the hills in water-rich years, were confined to the area surrounding the natural pond. Even the cattle, usually scattered over the hills, huddled near its waters. Amazed by the wide expanse of land, I followed it to its western border in my imagination, the hills overlooking the ocean. Orange County at that time was one of the fastest growing areas in the U.S. The prices of God's good earth doubled, tripled, and in some cases went up tenfold. This sand-rimmed edge of the newest Promised Land offers some of the most dear real estate for sale today. Yet much of the canyon land is fenced and undeveloped. It had once been the Rancho SanJoaquin and its bordering mountains the Spanish had named Sierra de Santiago and Sierra de Trabuca. Today this white man's Eden is known as the Irvine Ranch. Low clouds and fog keep the western slopes green even during the summer after a dry spring. I felt the old excitement as I emerged from the canyon to the vistas of the Pacific. Lawn bowlers played their game on a cliff near Vista Point. The white-haired players were tanned even this early in June. Black bowling balls rolled smoothly over grass as close-cropped and flat as a drill sergeant's head. I listened for the sounds of the past in the Pacific breeze, the shrill but melodic bagpipe music, the low, rich cadence of Isaac's voice as he chanted the Indian's song. I remembered our laughter the night of the switch. The gazebo was empty except for a metal face that magnified the ocean's views. The faces eyes brought the distance into clear view. Dimes were deposited in its nose to activate the machine. It had no mouth. I watched scuba divers in black wet suits exploring underwater worlds in a cove. In the distance businessmen drank beer on a chartered fishing yacht. Catalina was a blur in the ocean haze. The letter, postmarked London, contained a poem Isaac had recently completed at Princeton. It was the fruit of his visit to the Paiute Indians. I read it a number of times.

Dear Theophilos, The poem "Wovaka's Dances" is in the Psalm section of the Final Testament.

I came to the gazebo to make the plans that would be my future. Sheila had first encouraged me to change my major to Anthropology. There was a lot more she could teach me. Then as an act of love

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern she divided the road to enlightenment began with a journey away from one's native society. She gave me a brochure on junior-year abroad programs. I had also been accepted at the San Diego branch of the University of California as a Marine Biology major and considered the bright sun-filled days that would follow on the La Jolla coast. To put off a decision I walked down the path to the sparkling water of the tide pools. Again the educated Adam, I stood in the splash zone of the tide pools and named the organisms in their amniotic worlds. I announced to the world genus and species and the more poetic common names: abalone, acorn barnacles, anemones, chitons, limpets, mussels, sea urchins, sculpin, and starfish. Naming them made them mine, but the pleasure of this nomenclature was not complete, my loneliness of Adam - alone on the Garden. I heard the mermaids singing each to each, but without my friend, they did not sing to me. Crouched on the rock Isaac and I made our cathedral, I considered all the options. Copenhagen was a city offered in the year abroad program. I thought of the rescue of Danish Jewry and that I would like to live among these fine Scandinavian people. The French and German universities reminded me of my Jewish philosophy professor and his scholastic advice, as did the possibility of attending the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. Perhaps Sheila's advice meant she was ready for me to leave. I looked towards La Jolla, and thought of the expansive beaches, teeming with organisms to be identified. So many options. I stood to remove the remaining part of Isaac's letter from my pocket. Perhaps I had made my decision even before reading Isaac's note. He was at Heathrow in London, between flights, and would not be returning to Laguna this summer again. He had been accepted as a graduate student in Semitic languages at Hebrew University. He would take summer courses in conversational Hebrew and Arabic. He prayed that I and my family were well. I sat on the rock and smiled. I would spend my junior year abroad at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem.

The Messiah's Sefer Torah

The Israeli Airlines' flight from New York to Tel Aviv was full of men and boys who wore black. Black jackets, shoes, socks, and Bogart brimmed hats, but black. They wore white shirts without ties, with the top button fastened. They were exhausted, and as somber as traveling salesmen. These were the Chassidim I had read about in Martin Buber's classical studies, but without the grace or joy. A Chassid approached me with a pair of black boxes with leather straps. One was placed on the forehead between the eyes, and the other wound around the arm and hand. "Tefillin?" he asked. I recognized them from Bar Mitzvah training. I had not worn mine

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern since the Hebrew teacher had instructed us to wind the straps tightly on either side, so they looked like tanks, before they were put away into their embroidered velvet bags. I still had no inclination to wear them. An Israeli stewardess passed and smiled with compassion at my discomfort with the missionary. Earlier she noticed me watching her. I smiled, and she returned the smile with her warm brown eyes. Her hair was severely pulled back and clipped into a fanned pony tail in the manner of the native Sabras. The style accentuated her strong dark beautiful features. I smiled again. The Chassid, ignoring our innocent flirtation said again, "Tefillin?" "Yes," I said, "Tefillin," and looked away. "You put on today?" It seemed the easiest way to get rid of this zealot was to put on the strange religious objects. The Chassid lifted his hat and with quick slight of hand placed his perspiration-stained skull-cap on my head. I had to stand up. Setting the black box on my side, close to my heart, as I wound the straps around my arm I asked, "Will this also tell me my blood pressure?" He placed his index finger over his lips and loudly shushed me. The Tefillin of the head was adjusted to my size, and the Chassid, pointing to a transliteration he had on a card, said slowly: "Shema Yisroel Adon-oy Elohenu - Adon-oy Echawd." He stressed the first syllable, which is the way of the Ashkanazim in pronunciation. I repeated in fluent modern Sephardic Hebrew, so he let me read the next paragraph on my own. The stewardess returned. I placed my hand on the side of the black box on my head and turned an imaginary knob. My brow furrowed like someone straining to hear a far-off voice. The Chassid, wanting to know what I was up to, asked a fellow Sectarian in Hebrew, "What is he doing?" "In truth," the other Chassid answered, "I really don't know." Pleased that the stewardess was part of the audience, I continued turning the knob. "What are you doing?" the Chassid asked. "They don't seem to be working," I answered. The Chassid, silent, looked perplexed. "These transistors are malfunctioning! I did not pick up even one extraterrestrial transmission!" The stewardess laughed. The Chassid was still silent as I removed the broad phylacteries. I thought he either didn't understand or appreciate my humor. He carefully wound the straps and placed the Tefillin in their velvet bag all the while looking straight at me. Before turning to leave he said, "Next time, you listen better." I had to laugh. The stewardess' mood changed quickly when it was time to serve dinner. Special Glatt kosher meals the Chassid required were not aboard. The airline's food was strictly kosher, but these Chassidim would not consider even touching the meal. They even found a problem with the fruit, and so ate nothing. I finished one meal, and the stewardess offered another. Thanking her, I declined, but accepted extra large Jaffa oranges which were as large as grapefruits.

Sky Mutiny

. The movie was announced and the Chassidim protested. They conferred with a saintly looking old rabbi with a snow white beard, who sat with a large Sefer Torah next to him. The Torah scroll was covered with a rich velvet, embroidered jacket. A delicately filigreed silver crown sat on two engraved wood handles inlaid with ivory. The old rabbi, with great reverence had snugly secured the seatbelt around his traveling companion. He even conversed with the scroll, studying its commentators from a huge book resting on his lap. The rabbi kissed the spot where he had been reading, his finger marking the place, when the younger Chassidim interrupted his studies. They were in turn interrupted by a stewardess who lectured in Hebrew "a majority of the passengers have indicated they wanted to see the movie." "And what of us, we are almost half of those aboard?" one of the Chassidim asked. "This is a democracy, just as our state," she continued, still lecturing, "and you have the choice not to watch!" The Chassidim switched to Yiddish as they conferred. The old rabbi shrugged. "Next time we will not fly this Tref (unkosher) airline," a Chassid said. "We will allow you to show the movie if you show a short educational film produced by one of our followers." The stewardess knew she had won, but graciously assented. The lights dimmed after the Chassidic short was threaded into the projector. The film began. An old Chassid blew the shofar at the Wailing Wall as it was being liberated during the Battle for Jerusalem during the Six Day War. In the background, Chassidim crowned Israeli army officers with the Tefillin of the Head and bound their arms in the Tefillin of the Hand. The lips of the soldiers formed prayers before they kissed the broken stone wall. The scene shifted to the Front where a young Chassidic army officer with a long flowing beard emerged from the top of his tank wearing Tefillin. The top of the black box opened as if it were hinged, and the muzzle of an anti-aircraft gun emerged from the miniature black tank. Enemy planes were shot down and exploded in the desert sands. A quote from the Talmud, tractate Sotah flashed on the screen in Hebrew and English. "If you fulfill the Mitzvah of Shema alone, you are assured of victory." The Shema is the proclamation of the unity of God, written on parchment, that is placed inside the black boxes of the Tefillin.

Salvation's Army

The film ended with an explanation of the Tefillin campaign run by

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern the General of this Chassidic army from Brooklyn, New York. The Rebbe is Military diagrams traced the activities of Mitzvah tanks transversing the world to spread the word. Houses were opened on university campuses, marked by Jewish stars. Every male, thirteen and over, was encouraged to wear the black phalacterys as part of the war effort. The Chassidim joined in with their leader, the rabbi, as he ended the film chanting: "Ufarazta, Ufarazta, Ufarazta, Ufarazta Yama Vekedma Siphona Venegba Yama Vekedma Siphona Venegba"

Expand, Expand, Expand, Expand To the West, to the East, to the North, to the South To the West, to the East, to the North, to the South.

The film ended. The old Chassid with the Sefer Torah began a second chant which ended with the refrain "The Messiah is coming. The Messiah is coming!" The Chassidim left their seats and began to dance in the aisles. They regrouped in front of the screen and began the afternoon Mincha prayer service. I was not needed for the Minyan of ten men, so my reluctance to join them was not challenged. After completing the preliminary Psalm they began the Amida, a silent prayer of eighteen benedictions said standing. They bobbed back and forth, reminding me of an ether toy I had when I was younger. A plastic duck was filled with the gas and lowered and raised itself in a container of water. Mourners recited the Kaddish and the final Alenu prayer was chanted. The Chassidim did not move after the service. They stood and blocked the screen. A stewardess entered the pilot's cabin when the Chassidim refused to take their seats. The mutineers were informed by the captain in sharp Sephardic Hebrew that the plane would land and they would be bodily removed from the plane by airport police if they did not sit down immediately. The Chassidim looked towards the old Rabbi with the Sefer Torah. He motioned for them to sit. The Sabbath was approaching and any delay could risk its desecration. Travel on the Sabbath is strictly forbidden by religious law. The mutiny ended. The Chassid sitting next to me looked on with disapproval as I adjusted my headphone for the movie. Midway into the movie the star and co-star entered their bedroom (they were married) for a mildly suggestive intimate scene. My neighbor had been looking up at the silent screen every few minutes as he read a volume that contained a digest of the major Medieval Biblical commentators. As the sex scene began he tilted his head and hat forward. The other Chassidim on the plane were doing the same. After the movie I was offered a shot of vodka from a bottle the Rebbe had personally given to him by my rabbinic traveling companion. While an obvious incorrigible, I was a challenge he was ready to meet. He spoke to me first in Yiddish but switched

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern to Hebrew when I responded to the holy tongue. The vodka was poured. I emptied the shot glass with one swallow. The Rabbi made the appropriate Blessing, and insisted I do the same for the nest round. He handed me the skull-cap under his hat and I recited the Blessing that covered vodka. The Rabbi explained that the Chassidim had flown to New York for a historic religious celebration. "The previous Rebbe, may his memory be for a blessing, said that the Messiah would come in his lifetime. He transcribed a special Sefer Torah in honor of the Messiah. After the Rebbe's soul ascended to the heavens we waited. The Talmud states that a person's lifetime extends twenty years after they pass away. This is the fifteenth year. We completed the scroll in New York. The Messiah is coming! We are bringing the scroll to the land of Israel." The bottle emptied and even the Messiah's coming seemed plausible. The Rabbi explained that believing with perfect faith in his coming was one of the Thirteen Articles of Faith of the Jewish people. We stood in the aisle, both holding the bottle and marched up and down that narrow path. He sang many Chassidic songs but settled on a Russian drinking march, which we sang again and again after I joined in. Eventually we were asked to return to our seats. The plane began its descent into the Holy Land. I had arrived in Israel with the Messiah's Sefer Torah, along with God's holy zealots, on a silver eagle's wings. The entire village waited for the Chassidim on their return from the holy convocation. The men and women were segregated on separate sides of the waiting area. The men pressed together, pushing for a place in front. They appeared as one continuous massive body. Their heads, in the distance, seemed to be suspended in the air. A local bus took me to the train depot. The ancient train rolled on tracks put down by the Ottoman Empire. It pulled into Lod nearly full, and began its meander through the Judean Hills. Chassidim were as omnipresent as their God. They sat strategically huddled together, forbidden by their version of religious law to sit next to women. Bearded, without skull-cap, I was observed by these Chassidim with wonder. A young Yemenite woman in a mini-skirt entered our compartment. She passed my seat followed by a fragrance that was sensuous and musky, more fragrant than perfume. Her cheeks were accentuated by circlets of rouge, her lips as red and moist as a cut pomegranate. I almost fell out of my seat as I turned my head, then my entire body around to watch her walk to her seat. She would be my bride, this woman, who was dark and beautiful like the tents of Kedar and curtains of Solomon. I continued to look after her, at her swarthy shoulders and legs, where the sun had tanned her. We would keep a vineyard, in these Judean Hills, no matter what her mother's sons had to say. She would be the keeper of the vineyard. I would tell her when I shepherded the flocks at midday, when we would meet to make love under a fig tree, protected from the noon day sun.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern My Biblical reverie was interrupted by the stares of the Chassidim, full of disapproval and contempt. One sat next to me, filling the empty seat, to rescue me from Lilliths snare. The Yemenite sat in the only remaining seat, near the back of the compartment. The old Chassid she sat near first moved close to the side of the train, then stood, rather than sit next to her. A Chassid reached into his luggage, removing a velvet bag. "Tefillin?" he asked. The train began its slow ascent to the Holy City. We passed orange and apricot graves and enormous fields planted in cotton. The white puffs looked like miniature clouds waiting to be plucked. A soldier explained that the fields were owned by the many kibbutzim in the area. The furrows of the fields passed in front of my window, merging one onto the other. For miles the Earth offered up her bounties, the land seemed to be one enormous garden. After the stop at Bet Shemesh the air began to cool. We were on our way up to Jerusalem. Eucalyptus planted close together in a row guarded the fruit groves from harsh winter winds. The Judean hills were steeper and more austere than I imagined, and more beautiful. The hills are as majestic as the lowlands of Scotland. Wildflowers including saffron, buttercups, and narcissus, appeared incredibly bright on the sun-filled hills. Oleander were everywhere. The hills are terraced and a small stream meanders parallel to the tracks. Two verdant patches of grass formed narrow banks on both sides of the river. The stream runs swiftly, in spots, down the hills and the water froths up into white bubbles. I was not sure if air or pollutants caused the suds. Where the hills are rockiest, a quarry ground the mountains into gravel for the new nation's highways. Native Palestinians farmed small plots along the stream's edge. Arab men sat, with their wives and children, each under their own almond tree, in the groves they lovingly tended. Well before the train was to stop, the black-frocked Chassidim stood, waiting with expectation for our final destination, Jerusalem. We stopped, and they quickly descended the train's steep steps into the station. The Queen, Sabbath, was soon to be greeted and the Chassidim scurried to their destinations. Jerusalem I traveled, with Blake, over known lands, but soon I would discover the unknown. The train on its iron track had reached its earthly destination. I sat on a bench outside the train station and unfolded Isaac's most recent letter. One page of the letter was a map from the station to various sections of the old city, and from the old city to Rommema, where Isaac lived. Isaac was a most excellent tour guide, highlighting the steps on my pilgrimage with numbers, which correspond to lengthy historical explanations of each site on separate paper.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Map in hand, I began my journey, heading North on the Bethlehem Road to a windmill which, Isaac's letter informed me, was built by the noble Jewish philanthropist Sir Moses Montifore. I sat on a bench near the windmill in the section of "New Jerusalem" called Mishkenot Sha'anaim (the dwelling of tranquility) so I could take in the view of the walls of the old city across the valley of Hinnom. Isaac anticipated my questions about the walls, answering them after a general introduction to Jerusalem. "Jerusalem means, according to various Midrashic interpretations based on folk etymology; foundation of Peace, possession of Peace, vision of Peace, even God of Peace. Would that it could be so. The history of Jerusalem which the ancients say is the center and very heart of the world, is written in blood. If we were to stretch folk etymology, Jerusalem would mean fear of peace. The actual meaning is closer to 'founded by the God, Salem.' The famous biblical exegete, Rabbi Bahya B. Asher explains that 'Jerusalem' is in the plural to signify both the heavenly Jerusalem and the earthly Jerusalem." Yerushalayim Shel Ma'lah, the heavenly Jerusalem, is an ideal Jerusalem. In the Book of Revelations Heaven and Earth vanish to make way for a new heaven and earth. The New Jerusalem comes down out of heaven, "like a bride adorned for her husband" after violent cataclysms and war, even in the heavens. Apocalyptic literature contrasts the heavenly and earthly Jerusalem. Rabbinic literature, in the main, stresses their oneness. Rabbi Yohannan taught "The holy one, who is blesses, said: I will not enter Jerusalem the Upper until I enter Jerusalem the Lower (Baba Batra, T.B. 75: ...) We cannot wait for Jerusalem to descend from the heavens. All this you see before you, every lane, every street, every alley, must be uplifted and sanctified to elevate the earthly Jerusalem. Isaiah and Mark Twain described Jerusalem as a dismal place, the hills barren, and dull of color. Isaiah was speaking metaphorically and Twain, the innocent abroad, must have forgotten to remove his sunglasses, for he saw Jerusalem as "unpicturesque," "a pauper's village," "cursed by the deity." Even today, devoid of oak, cypress, myrtle and Jerusalem pine, which once forested her hills, she is austere, but still beautiful. The pale gray limestone of the hills, walls and houses, are honey-colored and golden in the sun. The treeless hills (forests are being replanted) are compliments of the Romans. When Hadrian defeated the Jewish General Bar Kochba, who even the pacifist Rabbi Akiba believed was the Messiah, he massacred more Jews than tradition tells us were present at the Revelation at Sinai (600,000). Not content with the murder and rape of the people, the troops cut down all trees, some for their war machines, others to batter down walls. The soldiers, with the courage of the crowd, raped even the trees, which could not flee, leaving Jerusalem completely defoliated and violated. After the destruction, many of the birds left Judea. Looking across the valley you see the walls which encompass the

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern old city and continue for over two miles. The wall and its seven gates were built by the Ottoman Sultan Suleiman I (The Magnificent!) between 1537 and 1541. Suleiman loved his city and built the walls to protect her. Beyond the walls, to your right, is Mt. Zion. From where you are sitting you see the Dormitian Abbey (Dormitio Sanctae Mariae) where mother Mary fell into eternal sleep. Nearby is The Cenacle (upper chamber) which Christianity recognized as the location of the Last Supper. The tomb of David also on Mt. Zion is holy to both Judaism and Islam. Mt. Zion is recognized by tradition as the place of final Redemption. Isaiah and Micah teach "For out of Zion will the Torah (teaching, enlightenment) go forth and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem" (Isaiah 2-3). The teachings that are to go forth from Zion are explicitly defined in the next verse. "And the nations will be judged, and many will be rebuked, and they will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks, nation will not lift up sword against nation, neither will they learn war anymore." This teaching of "Zionism" has eluded the modern state of Israel to this day. Jeremiah describes the dark idolatries and eternal torment that took place in the valley below you. Solomon erected altars here for the sacrifice of children to the fire god, Moloch, imitating the idolatries of the Ammonites. Milton describes the valley of Hinnon as "black gehenna (hell)." The Israelites are rebuked by Jeremiah (7:31) for acting in a way God "did not command and never imagined." Before your ascent to Mt. Zion, look around you at the unbroken mountains that are Jerusalem from the evil forces, the sitra achra, the other side, which opposes Godliness. The mountains are round about Jerusalem, the beauty, ineffable. The sages of Israel said: "Ten measures of beauty are bestowed on the world, nine belong to Jerusalem and one to the remainder of the world. Whoever has not seen Jerusalem in her glory has never seen a beautiful city. May your pilgrimage be, as Renan's, a fifth gospel." I folded Isaac's letter, placed it in my pocket, and walked up a steep path to Zion through a garden. Two Chassidim on a motorcycle arrived on the top of the mount at the same time as I. The one riding on the rear held on to his friend's waist with one arm, and with the other balanced a guitar behind him. One wore a round black hat made from a type of matted fur, the other a white woven skull-cap with a small tassel on the end. Both had long curled sidelocks dangling from their temples. The one who wore the white skull-cap also wore white stocking and knickers. His long frock coat was made of a shiny black material, either satin or silk. He sat with his friend on the steps leading to the Dormition Abbey and The Cenacle. The other Chassid took his guitar from its case and sang with feeling, and quite well: "Hey Jude ..." by the Beatles. I stood with my mouth partially opened, surprised, and the

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern white-capped Chassid said sincerely in a British accent, "You ought to close your mouth, you might catch a fly and they aren't kosher." The pair informed me that they were "Baal Tshuvas," returners to Orthodox Judaism and disciples of the Holy Rebbe, Rabbi Nachum of Breslov. "Our Rebbe teaches," said the singer, "that a holy melody has the power to raise one even to the level of prophecy." "Music is the basis of a true cleaving (he used the Hebrew word Devekus) to God. Music sends joy into the soul. Joy, or simcha, is the essence of the Rebbe's teachings. We should always be happy. The way to simcha is through Torah, prayer, and music." "The holiness of the land of Israel can also bring one to joy, and to true faith," the other Chassid sighed, and began to chant. "Oy, oy, the Land of Israel, oy, oy, eretz hakadusha - oy, the Holy Land." He took a small Psalmster from the pocket of his long coat and began to recite the psalms in English. Each verse was punctuated with an emphatic sigh. The two began to jump up and down ecstatically, reciting together. I backed up slightly, embarrassed, not wanting to be associated with the zealots. Tet, I was fascinated by the intensity of their zeal. The Chassidim tucked their heads and began turning somersaults on the ground. I backed off a bit more and felt someone standing behind me. "The Torah teaches," the Rabbi explained, "that the Kedusha, the holiness, of Israel is so high that it is a Mitzvah, a holy commandment, to roll around in her dust." The Rabbi introduced himself. "Shalam Alechim, my friend. What's your name, where are you from, how long are you staying?" I answered all his questions explaining that I was doing my junior year abroad. "Come learn in our Yeshiva," the Rabbi said. "What is Yeshiva?" "Ah, that you should ask is a sign you should attend. Take an extra year off and come learn with us - Chumash, Rashi, Gemara, Tosafos, Kabbalah." Kabbalah was said with emphasis, to guarantee my commitment. "Thank you, Rabbi," I said. "I'll visit again." The Rabbi looked away towards another young American university student and quickly shook my hand. "Good, good, come and learn," he said. I looked over at the Chassidim reciting psalms and then quickly walked away while the Rabbi spoke to the other student. I reentered the old city through Zion Gate. The wall around the gate was scarred by bullets. The bullets left a pox of round holes in the stone in Jerusalem's most recent battles. Turning to the right after passing through the gate, I walked along the Jewish Quarter Road and took Isaac's letter and his map out of my pocket. "You are now on your way to the Jewish Quarter which overlooks the Temple mount on the eastern part of Mt.Zion. I will take you to visit the Ramban, Hurva, and Chabad synagogues on Shabbat. The Yohanna ben Zakkai synagogue is being reconstructed and you will pass it on your way to the Western wall.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Rabbi Yohanna ben Zakkai is, in my opinion, the hero of the story of the Roman conquest which led to the destruction of Herod's Temple by Titus in 70 C.E. An old tradition claims the synagogue was erected where Rabbi Yohannan prayed for the peace of Jerusalem during the Roman war. The prophet Elijah, according to another tradition, will announce the arrival of the Messiah from here. Rabbi Yohannan's story is told in the Midrash in a number of places. Ben Batiah, the head of the biryoni (zealots), was the son of the sister of Rabbi Yohannan ben Zakkai. Yohannan sent for Ben Batiah, saying: "How long are you going to carry on this way and kill all the people with starvation?" "What can I do?" he replied. "If I say anything, they will kill me." "Devise a plan for my escape." "Feign illness so all know and come to visit. Put a rotting carcass near your bed, and they will say you are dead. Your disciples will raise you from your deathbed (to take you out of the city). They will say nothing when they feel you are lighter than a corpse." Rabbi Yohannan did so, and Rabbi Joshua and Rabbi Eliezar carried the bier to the door of the gate. One of the zealots wanted to put a lance through the bier. The Rabbis pleaded, "The Romans will say they desecrate even their own Master." Finally the gate was opened and the Rabbi was out of the confines of the city. Rabbi Yohannan went to Vespasian and said, "Peace to You O King - Peace to You O King." Vespasian said, "You have forfeited your life on two counts. I am not a king, yet you call me king. And if I am king, why do you come to me only now?" He replied, "In truth you are a king." At this point a messenger came to him from Rome saying, "The Emperor is dead and the notables have decided to make you head of the state." Vespasian said, "Make a request of me and I will grant it." Rabbi Yohannan said, "Give me Yavna and its Wise Men." Rabbi Joseph, and some say Rabbi Akiba, applied the following verse to Rabbi Yohannan: "God turns wise men backwards and makes their knowledge foolish," (Isa 49:25). Yohannan should have requested that the Jews be let off this time. The wise Rabbi, however, thought that Vespasian would not grant so much, and denying this request, nothing would be saved. The zealots felt that the inhabitants of the besieged city should fight to the last man against the Roman legions. Yohannan favored surrender and a peaceful solution to the war. The zealots won, but lost Jerusalem, the Temple, and eventually the Land. This lesson is ignored by modern day zealots. "Past the synagogue, continue right, down the walled lane. To your right is the Kidron Valley (Valley of Jehosophat) and the

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern village of Silwan. To your left is the temple mount on Mt. Moriah. I love to stand where you are now, and meditate on Jerusalem in her loveliness. The clarity of the view is startling. The sun illuminating the mountains is reminiscent of the quality of light of Greece. On some days one can almost see into the windows of the distant village of Silwan, especially if a cloud takes the edge off the intense light. Is it any wonder that this is the land of the prophet and the seer?" "Distance also gives an excellent perspective on Mt. Moriah. Pilgrims always remember the golden dome of the Mosque of Omar, built on the site of the Temple, as brilliant as the rising sun, and the lesser, but also magnificent light of the El Aska Mosque - a clean, full silver moon."

The Wall

"Beyond the hillpath that leads to the Mograbi Gate and Moriah is the Wall. Much of the wall is buried under the debris of destruction which Titus ordered thrown into the Tyropean Valley. The foundation and a number of levels now visible are from the time of Solomon's temple, the next few from Herod's temple, and the top levels of small stone block are Turkish additions. This western wall is also called the Wailing Wall, for the tears and lamenting for the temple. Nachmanides does not mention the Wall. Perhaps because his thoughts were on that which is essential - Mt. Moriah - within the wall." I walked toward the Wall after a complete check of my backpack and luggage by Israeli security forces. I stood on a slightly raised platform behind a fence and watched the men pray. A partition separated them from the women. Many of those praying were Chassidim who swayed back and forth before the Wall. Their side curls swung like pendulums on the sides of their heads. One Chassid wrote a note on a piece of paper and pushed it into a crevice between the stones of the wall. He then touched the wall with both hands, stood silent for a few moments, kissed the wall, and reverently moved away, never turning back. I walked to the left to enter the prayer area. A religious guard gazed at me with the puzzled look of the observant Jews of Israel. Jews with beards wore skull-caps (keypas). The guard handed me a black paper keypa that was stapled together. I approached the wall and attempted to pray. Silence. No words came, only the feeling of being near a holy place, surrounded by a presence. The same feeling I had at Vista Point in Laguna. I closed my eyes, but still, nothing to say. A line from a poem by T.S. Eliot repeated itself in my mind.

Waking alone At the hour when we are

I looked over at the partition separating the men and women, and at the Chassidim praying and swaying. "Lips that would kiss forming prayers to broken stone." I stepped back away from the wall, found a bench, and continued with Isaac's letter. "The birds perched on the wall are doves. They have found a house in the court of the Lord. The swallows that circle the wall and sing remind me of Capistrano. In Hebrew they are called Dror, which means freedom. They have found a nest for their young and sing praises near God's altar." "From your letters on the flora and marine life of Laguna Beach, I assume you will wonder about the shrubs and flowers growing from the wall. These plants are what give the wall sanctity and meaning to me. The largest shrub, in the middle is a common Ephedra (Ephedra campylopoda). Surrounding the Ephedra, on various parts of the wall are golden henbane and snapdragons. The plant with the greatest symbolic value on the wall is the thorny caperbush (capparis spinosa). The "caper" flowers in Winter from bulbs that burst forth with white petals, which, when fluttering in the wind, appear that they might alight like a white butterfly. The strength of the caper is compared to the people of Israel, the most tenacious of the nations. The Talmud explains (Betza 25:) the caper, wherever it grows, is difficult to uproot. Even when uprooted, it returns in the spring with new branches that flower, give fruit, and spread its seed to new places. Even more significant is the following story in another Talmudic source (Shabbat 30: ):" Rabban Gamaliel sat and taught, "In the future," (the time of the Messiah), "trees will bear fruit every single day." A student protested, "There is nothing new under the sun!" Gamaliel answered, "Come with me, I will show you proof in our own world!" The Rabbi took the student and showed him the caperbush. "Now, to that which is within. Doubleback to the Mograbi Gate to enter Moriah. To your left is the golden Dome of Rock. To your right, the El Aksa Mosque." Isaac did not mention the sign leading to the gate, printed in Russian, English, French and Hebrew:

NOTICE AND WARNING: ENTRANCE TO THE AREA OF THE TEMPLE MOUNT IS FORBIDDEN BY JEWISH LAW OWING TO THE SACREDNESS OF THE PLACE. THE CHIEF RABBINATE

Isaac's letter continued: "El Aksa Mosque is mentioned in the Holy Scriptures of Islam, the Qur'an, as the place of Muhammad's ascension, and is the third holiest shrine in Islam, after Mecca and Medina.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Jerusalem plays an important role in the early history of Islam, the Qur'an as the place of Muhammad's ascension, and is the third holiest shrine in Islam, after Mecca and Medina. Jerusalem plays an important role in the early history of Islam. At one point the Qibla, direction of prayer, was the same as the Jews - toward Jerusalem. Muhammad's vision of one world submitting to the rule of Allah included the immediate conversion of the Jewish tribes in Medina and Mecca. When the Jews refused, they were persecuted, and the Qibla symbolically turned away from Jerusalem to Mecca. The Mosque was built in the 8th century by Caliph Waleed, son of Abd-el-Malik. The original Mosque was destroyed a number of times by earthquakes, and rebuilt. After the crusaders conquered Jerusalem in the early 11th century they used the Mosque as the headquarters of the Templar Knights. In 1187 the Muslim's General Saladin reconquered the holy city and reconverted the headquarters into a Mosque. The Magnificent Saladin in the 16th century further restored El-Aksa. Recently a Christian zealot burned Saladin's minbar (pulpit) in the Mosque. A terrible act of destruction - may his offspring atone for his misdeeds. The Dome of the Rock covers the Rock of Moriah on the Summit of the Mount. The kepa of "Gold" is an alloy of aluminum and bronze. The noble sanctuary has eight sides, supported by twelve marble columns. The marble pillars divide the interior space into three concentric rings. Within the first circle is the rock. The scepter has not departed from Judah. The circles are the spheres of Sheloh. The outside of the sanctuary must be seen by the pilgrim to be appreciated. Similar to so many sites in Jerusalem, words fail and direct vision is necessary. The affect of the colors of the Persian tiling has been best described as "ancient Egyptian blue-green." Before you enter you will see a pool fro washing your feet. One enters the sanctuary shoeless to walk on holy ground. Inside you will see gold, black, and red stucco, and verses from the Holy Quran. History and legend are interwoven concerning the building of the Dome of the Rock, the Qubbat Al Sakhra in Arabic. After the Battle of the Yarmuk in the 7th century, the Christian patriarch of Jerusalem, Sophranius, offered to surrender the city to Umar, Muhammad's successor. At the time, Umar was in Medina. When Umar arrived in Jerusalem he asked Sophranius to take him to the Rock on the Temple Mount. The Mount, up to that time, had been used as a junkyard and dunghill, a way to heap contempt upon the exiled Jews. It is told that jars of excrement were imported from Constantinople to pour on the Mount as a sign of scorn. Umar commanded Sophranius, according to a Medieval Muslim story, to crawl in the feces and garbage to atone for these misdeeds. Umar himself cleaned the site and erected a wooden Mosque around the sacred Rock where Muhammad alighted on his steed, Al-Burak, on his night journey to the heavens. The Mosque to this day is known as the Mosque of Umar. His Mosque no longer stands. The present sanctuary was built by Abdal Malik

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern and completed in 691. Malik wanted the Mosque to surpass the splendor of the Christian churches in Jerusalem, especially the Holy Sepulchre. The Quranic verses inside the dome stress the ascendancy of Islam over Christiandom. The Crusades temporarily reversed this ascendancy. In 1099, armed with the Holy War and pushed by deplorable economic conditions in Europe, the Crusaders reclaimed Jerusalem. The star and crescent spire were removed from the top of the dome and replaced by a gold cross which marked the site of this important conquest for Christ. The Holy War against the infidel Muslim spilled over to include the blood of the Jews. On Friday the fifteenth of July, 1099, Godfrey de Bouillan and his henchmen burned the Jews of Jerusalem in their synagogue while they prayed. The holy mosque of Islam was now a church, The Temple Domini. The mosque was restored in 1187 when Saladin, as mentioned, entered Jerusalem and reasserted the hegemony of Islam.

The Rock

The Rock is chipped in parts, part of the crusaders' legacy. The chips were taken home for souvenirs. The Rock is sufficiently massive that these chips are virtually unnoticeable. The Mosque is centered on the Rock, which covers at least one fifth of the total area. On Medieval maps, the Rock is central, the center of the world. Steps descend to a chamber in the Rock. This chamber is, according to Islamic tradition, where the dead meet to pray. The fissure that runs along the Rock was noticed after the earthquake of 1067. This great Rock of Moriah has been the central altar of Jewish sacrifice to their God from the time of the first totally human being - Adam. Moriah, in Jewish tradition, is variously derived from a number of Hebrew words including: 1) Myrrh - for the holy nettle which grows on the mount, 2) Awe, or fear, and vision (Gen. 22:1-14), 3) Light, or teaching (Rashi - Gen. 22:2), similar to "Torah," and 4) Exchange - or Tumurah. It is the fourth, Tumurah, that I will tell you about. The story is well known to you. Abraham is ordered by God to sacrifice his son. The death of Isaac would mean the death of Israel. The death of Isaac would be the murder of laughter and joy. The text says that the ordeal was a Nesah to Abraham, which some translate as "a test." But what would the test prove? Certainly God knows, as Nachmanaides explains on the verse, whether an individual can emerge triumphant from a test. This confrontation between God and Abraham is perplexing in every imaginable way. How could God, the source of all life, command Abraham to murder his son, who was as dear to him as his own flesh

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern and blood? A double transgression; murder and suicide! Why does father Abraham hasten to sacrifice his son without argument? Was Abraham, willing to argue with God at Sodom and Gommorah to save the lives of people he did not know, not out of character? Within the word Nesah is the Hebrew word Nas, miracle. "And it came to pass after these things that the Elohim required of Abraham the miraculous, saying take your son, your only son, the one you love, Isaac, and go, yourself, to the land of Moriah and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mounts I will tell you of," (Gen. 22:1-22). Abraham, silent, could only pray for a miracle on the Mountain of Moriah - the mountain of exchange. Religious commentators view Abraham's actions as the perfection of his faith, the ultimate testament to his fear of God and submission to God's will. This is true of both the Rabbinic and Islamic exegetes. A condensed version of the story occurs in the Qur'an (37:100-112) where father and son submit to the will of Allah, in a manner characteristic of one who embraces Islam. At first reading, the Quranic account appears much different than that of the Torah. The term Aslama is not used in Genesis. Both Islamic and Jewish commentators agree, however, that Abraham's actions are the archetypes of the man of faith. Details sketched into the original account, through exegesis, are similar in the two traditions. Also similar is the assumption that the "paradox of faith" to use Soren Kierkegaard's phrase, "is capable of transforming a murder into a holy act well pleasing to God." This "paradox of faith" is the most difficult issue in the attempted sacrifice of his son by Abraham. The modern commentator Nahum Sarna, a gifted and scholarly exegete, state in his work, Understanding Genesis, that the lesson of the episode is found in the relation of God to his creatures. "Biblical faith is not a posture of passivity ... the essential nature of God's faith is the non-capricious nature of his dealing with the world and the inviolability of his promises to man." I do not understand Sarna's comments. Abraham is passive, God seems capricious! If Abraham knew he would not have to kill his son, what is the point of the test? And what of Isaac? In one Midrashic account, he is still a child, in another a man of thirty seven. If a man, the trial is one both for Abraham and his son. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 89 :) discusses the story in a legal context. Isaac must listen to his father, an established prophet. He is assured that it is God's voice demanding the transgression of God's commandment, "Thou Shall Not Murder." In fact, the story serves as a legal paradigm for the right of the prophet to temporarily suspend the ethical dimensions of the law. The Talmud continues with an Aggadic (Midrashic) passage. Satan and Abraham begin a dialogue:

Satan:"Should not your father be your confidence?" Abraham:"Remember, I pray, whoever perished, being

This is a difficult passage, but it appears that Satan, is pointing out to Abraham that his "fear of God should be his confidence," making the trail unnecessary! Satan is saying - "don't sacrifice your son!" Satan attempts to stop the sacrifice by revealing the outcome - a lamb would be exchanged for Isaac on Moriah. Father Abraham would not have to kill his son. Abraham answers: "It is the penalty of one who lies, that even when they speak the truth they are not listened to!" Evidently the Rabbinic sages considered the possibility that Abraham knew Moriah would be the Mountain of Exchange, and not the Mountain of Sacrifice. The rabbis voice their moral concerns through Satan, yet back away from the theological implication of an outright refusal by Abraham to sacrifice his son. The concluding portion of the Sanhedrin Midrash shifts to a dialogue between Ishmael and Isaac. Ishmael said to Isaac, "I am more virtuous than you in good deeds. You were circumsized on the eighth day, but I at thirteen years." "On account of one limb you provoke me! If God were to command my sacrifice (my entire body), I would obey. Immediately afterwards "God did tempt Abraham" (Gen. 22:1). I cannot explain why God would intervene in Isaac and Ishmael's petty quarrel. The story of Abraham (Ibrahim) and the attempted sacrifice of his son occurs in the Quran as follows:

"Ibrahim prayed "Allah, grant me a righteous son." When the boy reached maturity, Ibrahim said to him, "Son, I have seen in a dream that I must sacrifice you. Do you share my vision?" The boy replied, "O father do what you are commanded, you will find me, God willing, able to endure" (or able to be bound, as in the Genesis narrative, va-ya'akod). Then, when they had both surrendered (root aslam-islam) and he had thrown him on his face, we called to him "Ibrahim, thou hast indeed fulfilled the vision. Thus do we reward the muhsinin. That was surely a clear test. We ransomed the boy with a great sacrifice and left for him the salutation 'Peace upon Ibrahim.'" The Quran does not state which son was to be sacrificed. Some Islamic traditions identify the victim with Isaac, others with Ishmael. In the Middle East today, both brothers are offered on a two-sided altar. Rabbinic and Quranic exegesis relate similar interpretations of the story: "Father, take my shirt from my body, so my mother will not find blood upon it and weep. Bind me firmly so I don't move, and look away while sacrificing me so you don't lose courage." That Abraham actually attempted the sacrifice is related in both traditions. "Abraham directed the knife towards the throat of his son, but three times it slipped and glanced aside. Then a ram appeared and

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern said, "I am to be the sacrifice." It had been the offering if Able, waiting in paradise for this occasion. One fundamental difference in the two accounts of the story in the Bible and Quran remains. In the Torah, Abraham's submission is not verbalized and it is an angel that says, "For now I know you fear God." Ibrahim's response in the Quran is based on the root S.L.M. which could mean Peace, or submission. The most illuminating explanation of aslama and the Arabic root S.L.M. is given by the great Japanese scholar of Islam, T. Izutsu: "Aslama means that a man gives over something which is very dear ... his own self (in which case it means, naturally, total submission, self-sacrifice) or one of his best friends ... Grammatically, the verb aslama is inchoative. It marks the beginning of a new situation, the birth of a new nature. Itzutsu's definition fits perfectly with Ibrahim's actions in the Quran. In Genesis, Abraham submits because he is Yara Elohim, a God-fearing man. In the Quran, Ibrahim submits because he is one of the muhsinin, one of the key ethical terms in the Quran. Izutsu explains that the word's semantic content may be defined in terms of "the fear of God." The Quran considers the fear of God an essential expression of religion. Submitting, the humble obedience to whatever Allah demands, is an aspect of this expression. By fearing God, or submitting to God's will, faith is perfected. The overwhelming ethical and moral issues involved in God's demand to murder one's son are set aside in both traditions. A modern exegete, the poet Wilred Owen in his poem "The Parable of the Old Man and the Young," reminds us that "the paradox of faith," "fear" and "submission" are not always adequate cataegories to explain that actions of Father Abraham. After binding his son with belts and straps, Owen's Midrash explains, the angel calls to Abraham to stop, saying:

"Lay not thy hand upon the lad Neither do anything to him, Behold a ram, caught in a thicket by its horns Offer the Ram of pride instead of him." But the old man would not so, but slew his son And half the seed of Europe, one by one.

This modern Midrash reminds us that the questions raised concerning Abraham's silence and passivity are not easily answered. A ram is offered instead of Isaac. One medieval Midrash teaches that the name of the ram was Isaac. When the ram Isaac was offered he said, "Let Isaac for Isaac came."

The Mountain of Exchange, Mt. Moriah

The same Rock on this same Mount was the final resting place of the portable sanctuary, the ark of the covenant, during the time of King David. The ark was brought from Sheloh by David, to the holy city, with singing, dancing, and rejoicing. Solomon built a spectacular temple, and Isaiah predicted its downfall because of the people's sins. In 587 BC, Nebuchanezzer came, taking the Jews into captivity. The ark of the covenant was lost. The Rock of Moriah remained holy to the Jews, the only legitimate place to offer animal sacrifices, the ancient way of praying. Ezra and Nehemiah began the rebuilding of a modest second temple, and Herod enlarged it into a temple of splendor. Jewish naivety concerning international relations and power, and zealotry, helped topple the temple in 70 CE, leading to exile and diaspora. Only Rabbi Yohannan, you remember, and his vision of Yaune, saved Judaism. The ark of the covenant was gone and the Jews were without a portable sanctuary to take into exile. The rabbinic solution to the crisis was brilliant. The Torah and its teachings became the Jews' portable sanctuary. Animal sacrifices were replaced by "offerings" of mouth and meditations of the heart. In part the exile would be a blessing. Jews would learn the lessons of pluralism and internationalism through the experience of being strangers in strange lands. A Judaism centered around temple service and animal sacrifice was exchanged for a Judaisn, which, like the caperbush, took root in areas at the farthest ends of the "four corners of the earth." In Jerusalem, Jews today still study the order of the sacrifices, the manor of sprinkling the blood, and burning the fat. The intricate architectural nuances of the Third Temple are a specialty of some Yeshivot. The laws of the Pascal lamb are learned, and the manner in which they are ritually slaughtered. These religious Jews have wondered what will become of the Mosque of Omar. They do not understand that the Third Temple is already built. Modern day zealots consider ways to destroy Omar's shrine." The day was quickly darkening, and I descended from the temple mount to a courtyard of the Wall. Isaac's map guided me through the old city to the Damascus gate and from the Damascus gate to Mea Sharim.

Mea Sharim

Isaac described Mea Sharim. "In the late 19th century, religious Jews set up this quarter, one of the first neighborhoods outside the walls of the old city." "The architecture and structure of the quarter say much about its inhabitants. A continuous row of houses surrounds the section, a wall broken only by the many gates, which were locked at night for security. The houses are all turned inwards, facing an interior

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern court which contains the essentials for an orthodox Jewish lifestyle - synagogues and Mikvot (ritual baths), water cisterns and communal buildings are Oriental in style, the overall effect is of an Eastern European ghetto. The blocks of Jersualem stone that form the substance of the Mea Sharim are a faded dirty gray. Many are covered with holy graffiti. "The land of Israel, only with Messiah's coming," or the provocative "Zionism = Nazism." "The synagogues and their history are too numerous to describe. Chassidim from various Eastern European communities relocated their courts in different sections of Mea Sharim. With time one learns to distinguish their orogon by their garb and hats. I have spent much time with the Chassidim and we will speak of their teachings and visit their saints." I walked and read to the middle of Mea Sharim. The streets were dim, and surprisingly deserted. The inhabitants, I would learn, were in prayer. A number of Chassidic children eyed me suspiciously. One filled his pockets with small pebbles. Near the entrance to the market I noticed a large sign in English.

With Heaven's Help

Dear visitor, you are quite welcome to Meah Shearim, but please do not antagonize our religious inhabitants by strolling through our streets in immodest clothing. Our Torah requires the Jewish woman to be attired in modest dress; sleeves reaching until below the elbow, (slacks are forbidden), stockings, married women having their hair covered, etc., are the virtues of the Jewish woman throughout the ages. Please do not offend our residents and cause yourself any unnecessary inconvenience. We beg you not to infringe upon our way of life and "Holy Code of Law." We beseech you to use discretion by not trespassing our streets in an undesired fashion. The men are requested not to enter bareheaded. Thanking you in advance for complying with our request and wishing you blessings from above for you good deeds. Committee for guarding modesty, Mea Shearim and vicinity - Jerusalem - The Holy City.

An inner alley, parallel to Rehov Mea Shearim led me back to where I began, the southern entrance to the quarter. The Chassidic boys in white tasseled skull-caps, robes, and side locks, were miniatures of their fathers. I walked towards them, and they reached their small hands into their pockets. One shouted "Shabbos! Shabbos!" I said in Hebrew, "Yes, I know it's Shabbat." The boy asked, "Do you speak Yiddish?" "A little." "The bags are Mukza," he said. "What" I answered, "Mukza Mukza." "You shouldn't carry them on the Sabbath." The boys led me into the large marble facaded synagogue with the Hebrew Toldot Aaron chiseled on the front. More children played wildly in the foyer, chasing each other and shouting in Yiddish. I set my bags down and walked into the synagogue.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Hundreds of men, tightly packed together, swayed to and fro as they finished the afternoon Mincha service. Each wore identical golden silk robes with blue pinstripes and woven black sashes with tassels around their waists. The Chassidim, the white tassels on their caps, and the black tassels of their sashes, all seemed to sway in unison. They began the prayer that ends each service - Alenu - almost shouting the words: "It is upon us to praise the Master of all, to exalt the creator of the beginning, for he has not made us like the nations of all lands, nor caused us to be like the families of the earth. He has not given us a portion like theirs, nor is our destiny similar to the multitudes, for they bow down to vanity and nothingness." At this point in the prayer, the Chassidim, in unison, spat with contempt on the floor and ground the spittle into the floor with their shoes. I had not been praying along, and could not begin. The spitting sickened me. The prayer was dedicated to an idolatry of narrow exclusiveness in the name of religion. What of the Christians who led good decent lives and worshiped the one God? What of the Muslims who in some ways were even more strictly monotheistic than the Jews? I counted myself among the families of the earth and felt we shared a common destiny. The beginning of this prayer itself seemed to me the height of vanity. The Chassidim continued: "But we bend the knee and bow and offer praise before the supreme King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He. It is He who stretches forth the heavens and is the foundation of the earth, whose dwelling place of glory is in the heavens above, and whose manifest of majesty is the loftiest heights. He is our God, and none other. Truly, He is our King, the others are as nothing. As it is written in His Torah, 'know today, and lay it upon your heart that the Lord is God, both in the heavens above and the earth below, there is no other.'" (Deut. 4:39) The biblical verse I repeated with the Chassidim, but was unable to say the parts of the prayer that refers to God as King, and God as He. The great Monarch in the sky, God with hoary hair and a long white beard was not a deity I could pray to. I voiced my objections to Isaac the next day, and all he would answer was that the Torah speaks in the language of common man. "Judaism rejects any anthropomorphic description of the deity. When the prayer was written, the king of each province had absolute ruler." Why the stress on "He?" I asked. Isaac's answer was evasive. "Throughout the prayerbook God is also referred to as Lach you in the feminine ). God is neither male nor female." The prayer continued: "And therefore our hope is for You, Lord our God, to speedily behold the splendor of Your strength, banishing the idols of the earth, and the false gods completely destroyed, to refound the world under the sovereignty of the Almighty. Every individual will call You by name, to turn to You all the wicked of the earth. Then You will be acknowledged by all the inhabitants of the world. Every knee shall bend toward You, every tongue shall be sworn to

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Your name, and all will take upon themselves the yoke of Your kingdom. Reign over them soon forever and ever, for the kingship is Yours, and for all eternity You will reign in glory, as it is written in Your Torah: The Lord will reign forever and ever. And the Torah says 'The Lord shall be king over the entire earth. On that day the Lord shall be one and His name one.'" The second half of the prayer did not fit with the first. All the nations of the world united in this vision of the one God. I wondered about "the idols of the earth," since graven image worship, as far as I knew, was a thing of the past. Certainly the "false gods" of today, the idolatry of power and the cults of Mammon and violence are far more subtle than images carved in stone or wood. I also wondered about the time framework of the prayer, and if it referred to the actual idols of antiquity. I understood the verse about the Lord reigning over the entire earth forever, but not "on that day the Lord shall be one, and His name one." I repeated this part of the prayer to myself, silently. In our synagogue in America we skipped all but the end of the prayer. We repeated sections, singing "and the Torah says the Lord shall be king over the entire earth. On that day, on that day, the lord will be one, and his name, one." Among the Chassidim in their silk gold robes, I noticed a rabbi with a short black jacket, black pants, and a white shirt with a dark navy tie. His beard was folded in under his chin, and tied, considerably shortening its length. He stood out not only because of his blackness against a background of blue and gold, but also because of his quietness and method of prayer. While the Chassidim were swaying, gesticulating, clapping, and shouting, he stood silent and erect. While praying, he spoke in his heart, his lips moved but his voice could not be heard. Our eyes met during the Alenu prayer, and he walked in my direction. I was sure I looked ridiculous in the white tasseled skull-cap which rode on the top of my head. A number of Chassidim had fetched their hats, for me to wear and given up when the hats proved to be so small I could not even balance them on my head. The rabbi smiled. "I noticed you pray silently," the Rabbi said. Before I could answer he continued. "The Rebbe, Reb Arele, Rabbi Ahaaron Roth teaches that we must also praise God with silence. The Chassidim praise God with song and joy so that He will dwell in the midst of them. The prophet Zechariah, the Rebbe tells us, teaches us to be 'Silent, all of you, before the Lord, for He is awakened from his holy dwelling,' (2:13), Habbakkuk's burden is the violence of those whose worship becomes idolatry. When the Lord is in the holy temple, Habbakkuk exhorts, 'Let all the earth keep silent,' (2:20)." The Rabbi quoted the chapter and verse of his proof texts. "Why pray at all?" I asked. He did not answer, but opened his prayerbook and pointed to a verse at the end of the Amidah - the essential Jewish prayer, which are eighteen benediction said silent and standing:

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable before thee, my strength and my redeemer,: (Psalm 19:15). "This verse is the foundation of Jewish prayer," the Rabbi explained. "Do you find anything extraordinary in its formulation" I thought for a long time and the Rabbi waited patiently. "I would expect that the thoughts and meditations of our heart would come before whatever praises our lips would utter." The Rabbi was pleased with the answer. "Exactly, and that is the chidush, the innovation, of the verse, to teach that the words we utter in prayer are to awaken the meditations of the heart. The liturgy of Jewish prayer is a mantra that is a springboard to the eternal. I was intrigued by the idea of a mantra, and wanted to talk more, but the Rabbi silently excused himself to talk to others of the many who came to watch the Chassidim pray on the Sabbath eve. I left my bags at the synagogue and walked the streets of Mea Shearim. A rabbi in a blue robe with gold stripes that his body barely filled, a round fur hat and a thin gray beard, entered the quarter followed by a number of students in casual attire. They were wearing the black stapled skull-caps of the western wall. Also in the entourage were a number of poor Chassidim in threadbare black jackets and black hats which were stained and dusty. The rabbi and those following him stopped when they saw me. He spoke, and I inclined my head in his direction to hear: "Peace be with thee," he said. "And with thee, Peace," I answered, using the traditional response. "Do you have a place for the Sabbath?" the rabbi asked. "No." "Then please, we ask you to join us for kiddush." He continued, "by what name are you called?" "My name is Laurence." "You are a Jew?" "Yes." "Please tell me, by what name are you called?" I asked in the elevated Hebrew of our conversation. I put my hand out to greet the rabbi, but he only bowed in my direction as he said: "Reb Meir." Reb Meir's house was located in the middle of Mea Shearim. The front and back doors to his home were open. A long table which filled the living room was set and covered with a white tablecloth. Two Sabbath candles and the warm glow of a kerosene lantern were the only light in the small home. The flames of the candles dances with the wind. We all sat, and filled all the set places except for one. Reb Meir and his wife (the Rebbetzin) smiled. I could only imagine what they said to each other in their private language born from a lifetime of togetherness. "Perhaps next week. Yes, perhaps next week our most honored guest will come."

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern We stood for the sanctification of the wine. The Rabbi first softly chanted the 23rd Psalm, and then: "This is the meal of the holy Chakal Tapuchin, the Sechinah, manifestation of the divine presence." This meal of perfect faith is prepared, the table set (he smiled at the Rebbetzin), it is a delight to the Holy King. This is the meal of the Divine Presence and the Holy Ancient One, come to join her in the meal." Reb Meir raised a silver wine goblet, closed his eyes, and chanted: "This day, the sixth, the Heavens and the Earth and all their host are complete. And God finished by the Sabbath the creation he had done, and rested on the seventh day ... blessed it, and hallowed it, for on the Sabbath God ceased from all creating which had been done up to that time." The Rabbi lifted the goblet and announced: "Honored guests." Then recited, looking heavenward: "Blessed art Thou, Lord our God, King of the world, who creates the fruit of the vine." He cupped the wine goblet in his hand, holding it by the stem and continued: "Blessed art Thou, Lord our God, King of the universe, who hallows us with your Commandments and is pleased with us, and the Holy Sabbath, in love, and willingly giving us our inheritance, a remembrance of the act of creation (first among all which is called holy) commemorating the Exodus from Egypt. It is we you have chosen and sanctified from all the nations." "Blessed art Thou, Lord, who hallows the Sabbath." We all sat and were given a taste of the sanctified wine. Before the blessing on the bread which begins the meal, we ritually washed our hands. The Rabbi carefully rolled up his sleeves, took a brass vessel with water into his left hand, filled it, and carefully poured water on his right, then his left hand, three times. No one spoke between the blessing on the washing of the hand and the blessing on the bread, making them one act. The guests each washed their hands while the Rebbetzin patiently waited. She washed her hands last. We all sat. The Rabbi uncovered two braided Sabbath loaves, one topped with sesame, and one with poppy seeds. He cut one, placed the other on top, and slowly chanted the blessing: :Blessed art Thou O Lord, King of the universe who brings forth bread from the earth." He again raised his eyes when speaking to God, and raised the loaves when he said "bring forth." I had many questions, especially about our Closeness and sanctity among the nations, and the implication that the Sabbath is a gift to the Jews alone. I was silent, however, overcome by the tranquility of the Sabbath. We were served a Sabbath feast, and I wondered how this precious pair, whose house was so humble, could afford to eat during the week after feeding the beggars of Jerusalem.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Reb Meir recited a Sabbath song in Aramaic written by Isaac Luria, the son of Shlomo. It was written in the form of an acrostic, spelling the author's name. The questions I had thought about were asked by the other university students, and Reb Meir answered in broken English in a manner that indicated that they were commonly asked. A number of times the Rabbi looked towards his wife for help. They spoke in Yiddish. I was drawn into their partnership when the Rebbetzin asked me in Hebrew to translate their answer into English. The Rebbetzin sat opposite me. Her face was as full and round as a full moon, and as bright. I had heard that Chassidic women did not speak to, or look at men. She had already spoken, and now stared directly into my eyes. We spoke of the Sabbath Queen and the mystics of the 16th century who stood on the hills of Safed in white linen to greet her. The Rebbetzin corrected my Hebrew a number of times, explaining nuances of grammar I had not learned in the university. She asked me about university life and the program at the university in Jerusalem. We discussed the people of the state of Israel after I expressed surprise at the fluency and beauty of her Hebrew, and asked: "I thought Chassidim only spoke Yiddish?" "Ah, Yiddish," she sighed, "the much maligned tongue, still the language of universal Jewish discourse between Jews from distant continents. The assimilationists feared Yiddish and the pious Jewish worldview associated with it, and demanded that all the Jews of Israel speak a reborn Hebrew." "Jews did need a new common language to bind them into a nation," I added. "But listen," she said, "that's exactly my point. We had Yiddish, and the revival of Hebrew has meant only that you can buy pornographic books and magazines on every street corner, a profanation of the Holy Tongue." The Rebbetzin anticipated my next question. "But what of the Jews of North Africa and Yemen and Iraq who don't speak Yiddish?" "When we all lived together in the old city of Jerusalem," she answered immediately, "many of the Sephardim from North Africa knew Yiddish, or I could speak to them in Arabic. Don't look so surprised that I speak Arabic, we spoke to our Arab neighbors and got along quite well, until the Zionists came. Even the British were better than the Zionists. The Zionists attacked our language, our beliefs, everything we felt to be scared. When we live together in closed communities to escape contamination, they accuse us of exclusiveness. When we shudder at their slogan 'I am an Israeli, not a Jew' they accuse us of being unpatriotic. When we refuse to join the army and fight their enemies, who they rival in heartlessness and brutality, they call us cowards. We warned them 1948 that the time had not yet come. 'Do not raise up - love - till it please.' The state of Israel, a nation like all the nations, worshiping the flag, growing cold and unfeeling, another idol for those who worship not God, but the state.!" The Rebbetzin offered another vehemently argued polemic on a topic

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern on which she had obviously done a lot of thinking. "The Israeli Jews refuse to believe they are still in exile. Still further from their imaginations is the realization that Israel is a puppet state of the unholy aspirations of diaspora Zionism, especially secular Zionists in the United States." "You think Golda Meir is Premier and Zalman Schazar President of Israel?" she asked rhetorically. "The economic viability of the state of Israel depends completely on rich American Jews. These Jews are secular and intellectually unsophisticated and live a vicarious Zionist fantasy through their Israeli counterparts. The triumph of the Zionists over the Arabs in six days during the '67 war makes these diaspora Zionists proud that Israel is now for its size the most powerful nation in the world." "They send more money to finance more wars and everyone is under the illusion that the Prime Minister runs the government. The real head of the secular Zionist government is some ultra rich Jew in Baltimore or Beverly Hills, who heads the world Zionist Executive Committee. The wars in Israel began with the arrival of the Zionists and continue to this day." The Rebbetzin spoke in Hebrew, and quickly, and I had to strain to understand all her points. The Rabbi had a separate conversation going with the other guests, but looked in our direction a number of times during the conversation. The Rabbi, waiting for his wife to make her final point whispered, "Shabbos." The Rebbetzin smiled. "Yes it is the Holy Sabbath. Enough talk of the secular and negativity." We sang the Sabbath songs late into the evening. The candles burned down to their wicks. I got up to leave, worried that I would arrive at Isaac's too late, and remembered I had to get my bags. The Rabbi told me not to worry about my bags. He led me to another building, into a room with beds. Two of the other guests came along. The beds were piled high with blankets and quilts against the cold Jerusalem nights. I got into bed not feeling tired. A scent of freshness and sunshine was on the sheets. I wanted to think of all I had seen and done since arriving in Jerusalem, but immediately feel asleep.

*****

I awoke feeling rested and warm. The sun had finally entered the high window of the room as I emerged from sleep's dream kingdom. I had been a Chassid. The Rebbetzin my mother. The fingers of my right hand rested on my temple where the sidelocks had been. My hat was too large and I did not need to pull it down over my eyes when women walked by. My head was bruised from walking into streetlamp posts. My body ached from collisions with full-breasted women. This room had been part of the dream, the Chassidic guests my older brothers. I was awake now, but still in

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern the room of the dream. My "brothers" were up, and I assumed, at prayers. I kicked the blankets off and stretched. The Chassidim returned from the Sabbath morning prayers. They "tzutzed" a number of times and said "Nu Nu." Trying to avert their eyes, they stared at my bare legs. I covered them. One said to the other, "Nu-Nu-Negel-vasser" and went to the sink to fill a brass vessel with water. The water was brought to my bedside in a container. The Chassid said "Nu-Nu." The meal of egg bread, sweet wine, soup, honey carrots and bean stew with large chunks of red braised meat was well-prepared. I was ravenous and overate, even sampling some of the meat. My roommates stared at me and somehow ate even more than I. They hurried us through grace. They returned to the room for a long Sabbath nap, and I went for a walk. I did not have Isaac's map, but thought I remembered the way to his apartment in Rommema. I took a wrong turn and found myself on Yaffa Road. An old home guard soldier with a rifle directed me to Isaac's neighborhood. Isaac's building overlooked the Allenby War Memorial and central bus station. The buses were visible from Allenby Square. Parked close together in tight rows they rested, along with all of Jerusalem, on the Sabbath. The front of the building contained a magnificent pillared entrance. The door was locked. The building was surrounded by a garden. I walked through it to a side entrance. This was not an apartment, but some type of school. To the left, an open staircase. To the right, a walnut paneled room with a Holy Ark and desks for students. The desks each contained two chairs facing one another. Otherwise the room was empty. I exited for a moment to check the address once again. This was Isaac's home. A thin pale student with wispy black beard, black hair, and black skull-cap descended the staircase and asked if he could be of help. "Yes, I am looking for Isaac." "Ah, Yitchak," he said, using the Hebrew pronunciation. "Yitchak just left looking for a friend." "Ah," he said again, understanding. "I told Yitchak he would never find you. You are Aryeh, correct?" "Yes," I answered, startled to hear my Hebrew name. "How are you called," I asked, thinking in Hebrew but asking in English. He smiled and answered in Hebrew, "I am Shlomo." He paused and thought. "You'll never find Yitchak. Come, let's learn." I followed Shlomo into the paneled room. We sat at a desk near a large bookcase. I examined the tomes. "These are Yitchak's," he said. "I am his study partner." Shlomo immediately sensed my ignorance. "Didn't Yitchak tell you? This is a Yeshiva." I looked at Shlomo dumbly. Isaac wrote little of himself, always asking about my parents, my sisters, and Laguna. Isaac spoke of studies, but I assumed he meant university.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "Did Isaac drop out of his university program?" I asked, panicked. "No, no." Shlomo smiled. "I attend also. Yitchak and I are in the same graduate program." I found myself annoyed with this Shlomo character. He was Isaac's study partner. He attended university with Isaac. I hoped he was not also Isaac's roommate. I did not like the way he called Isaac, Yitchak. He rolled the "ch" in his throat like a rasping German. Isaac's name sounded harsh on his lips. Shlomo decided we should learn even though I was completely indifferent to his request. He expounded on the weekly portion of the Torah reading. I looked at him but did not listen. Then I noted the books in Isaac's bookcase, giving Shlomo minimal eye contact. Jastrow's Dictionary of the Talmud in English, several books on Aramaic grammar, and a miniature set of the Talmud itself in three thick volumes. A new magenta jacketed set of six large volumes of Maimonides Mishna Torah was on the shelf below, along with a used set of the Schulchan Aruch. Other books with exotic titles I assumed to be commentary: House of the Choice. The Face of Joshua. The Grammar of the Scribes, Order of the Light, etc. Other titles must have been acronyms for rabbis, such as Rashba, but I had never heard of the man. One set of volumes bound in blue on the top shelf with the Biblical commentators caught my attention. Akedat Yitzchak. The binding of Isaac. Shlomo asked me to repeat the main points of his discourse. I stared at him and smiled. "Nu" he said. "Let's go out and find Isaac." We exited the Yeshiva, turned left at Allenby Square past the "Neighborhood of the Rabbis" and Rokach Square, to the street of the Kings of Israel. Shlomo went into the Rizhner Yeshiva and Porat Yosef Yeshiva to find Isaac. We checked the small synagogue of the Yemenites in Mea Shearim, Colel Chabad and Toldot Aaron where I had been the evening before. "Perhaps Yitchak is at the hotel," Shlomo speculated. He slipped into another small Chassidic synagogue and I ducked around the corner. Enough of this frantic search. I needed time to be alone, to think of Isaac in Yeshiva. I saw Shlomo walking in my direction and entered a courtyard with another small Yeshiva. The Yeshiva's sign was in Hebrew and English. Esh Ha Simcha - The Ecstatic Flame. I entered, expecting Shlomo to follow. He did not. I had lost him. The Talmudic academy was beginning the afternoon Mincha service for the Sabbath. They were seated, chanting, but in unison, the Ashrei prayer: "Happy are those who dwell in Your house, they will praise you forever." This was a Baal Tshuva Yeshiva. Many of the students were American. Some dressed in bluejeans and word their hair long, crowned with a black skull-cap. Others had cut their hair into marine crewcuts, leaving long sidelocks at the temples. They wore black or dark blue suits with black hats. One of the penitents, with a thin elegant nose, thin lips and blondish sidelocks had

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern made the transition directly to Chassid. He pranced about as proud as a caterpillar in a gold silk robe with blue silk sash, white stockings and shiny black loafers. His pride and joy was obviously his tall fur hat which he wore at a severe rakish angle. The hat added over a foot to his stature and accentuated his feminine features. The students prayed with ecstasy and abandon. They were genuinely happy to be in God's house. A number of real Chassidim from the neighborhood joined the service. The Chassidim bowed and swayed in prayer. The students bowed swayed deeper. A student stretched out his arms, looked heavenward, opened both his hands, palms up, and proclaimed: "You open your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing." A neighborhood Chassid clapped his hands and recited: "My mouth will utter the praise of the Lord, and let all flesh bless his Holy Name forever." The students also clapped, but louder, when they repeated the verse. I prayed along quietly thinking of the simple meaning of the prayer. "And a Redeemer shall come to Zion and to those of Israel who repent of their transgressions ... My spirit which is upon you and my words which I have put in your mouth shall not depart from your mouth, not from the mouths of your children, nor from the mouths of your children's children" declares the Lord. The next section of the prayer was in Aramaic and I did not understand it all. The prayer continued in Hebrew: "The sovereignty of the Lord is established forever and to all eternity. Trust in the Lord forever and ever... Those who know your name put their trust in you who has not abandoned the Seekers." The Ark was opened and we rose for the service of reading the Torah. We sang: "Whenever the Ark of the Covenant went out, Moses would say 'Arise O God. Your enemies disperse and your foes flee, for from Zion shall the Torah go forth and the word of Adonai from Jerusalem'" The Torah scroll was removed from the Ark. All reverently kissed the scroll, and the Torah was places on a reading stand. The dandy in the gold silk robe and blue sash walked toward me and asked, "Cohen? Levi?" "No, Israel." I answered feeling detached from this ancient tribalism. I did not want the honor of ascending to the Torah reading. Many recited the blessings by heart from Bar Mitzvah training and I did not trust my memory. A student was called for the priestly portion of the reading. After he finished the second blessing all stood. The prancer announced: "Ya-amod Rebbanu Ha Rav Mordecai Ha Levi ben Itamar Mereva Satman - Levi." The Rebbe had been hidden behind his prayer podium and under the oversized prayer shawl he wore over his head. The Rebbe adjusted the silver brocade collar of the shawl around his face. The prayer shawl, with broad black stripes on white, completely

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern covered his body. The ritual fringes brushed the floor. The Rebbe looked at me with familiarity, as though he had been studying my face. The features of the Rebbe's face were fine; a delicate aristocratic nose, thin lips and small ears with large anomalous lobes. His blue eyes were magnified by his glasses into a kaledeiscopic spectrum of blue that was mesmerizing. His face was set in a frame of red hair and red beard, white hot at the edges, with two bursts of flame leaping from his temples. We remained standing for the Rebbe's portion and his blessing on the Torah. I was called for the third reading. I prayed I would remember the blessings. The anxiety was unnecessary. The blessings were written on a placard in large Hebrew letters. The Hebrew was even transliterated for those who could not read. After my portion was recited by the reader and I said the second blessing, the Rebbe leaned over and asked me when I arrived in Israel. He explained that one arriving safely after a long journey was obligated to recite a special blessing. The Rebbe turned to the "Blessing of Thanksgiving for Deliverance" and handed me his prayer book. He was delighted when I recited the blessing clearly without his help, in Hebrew. "Blessed art Thou, Adonai, our God, King of the universe, who bestows goodness on those in need, and has bestowed goodness on me." The congregation responded: "Amen. May he who has bestowed goodness upon you, always bestow every form of goodness upon you." The Torah was returned to the Ark and the congregants stood praying silently the Benediction to themselves. I repeated the first line to myself a number of times: "My Lord, open my lips and my mouth will declare you praise." I finally prayed. I skimmed the prayers, stopping to slowly read and meditate on the last blessings. Blessed art Thou, Adonai, who blesses his people of Israel with Peace. May the words of my heart and the meditation of my heart be acceptable before you, Adonai, my strength and my redeemer. My God, guard my tongue from evil and lips from murmuring. To those who curse me, let my soul be silent ... Hasten to annul the consul and frustrate the design of those who plot evil against me ... He who makes peace in his heavens, may he make peace for us and all Israel, and say, Amen. May it be your will, Lord our God, and God of our Fathers, that the Holy Temple be speedily rebuilt in our days, and grant us our portion in Your Torah. A moment after I finished, the Chazan began the repetition of the silent benedictions. I repeated the words in an undertone, following his cadence: "Blessed art Thou O Lord; our God and God of our fathers, The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob, The Great, the Mighty, the Awesome God, exalted bestowing goodness to the chassidim, Lord of all

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern who remembers the human kindness of our ancestors and who will bring a Redeemer to their children's children for the sake of His name, and with Love." O King, Thou art our helper, Savior, and Shield. Blessed art Thou, O Lord, Shield of Abraham." The Chazan bowed at "Thou" and raised himself at "Lord." The Rebbe rose and walked to the Bema where the Torah was read. The students and Chassidim joined him and joined hands in a circle around the Bema. The Rebbe noticed my reticence and nodded with his head for me to join the circle. We repeated the next benediction with the Chazan, slowly, bowing inwards, then straightening as we circled the Bema singing and repeating: You are One And who is like your people Israel and your name is One One nation on Earth The Chazan sang the words of the prayer and we danced and hummed a wordless tune: "Splendor is magnified and on the Sabbath it is a crown of redemption. A day of rest and hallowing given to your followers. Abraham rejoices! Isaac is exuberant! Jacob and his sons rest therein. A rest of Peace, Serenity, and Security. A perfect rest which you favor. May your children recognize and know that from you is their rest, and by their rest sanctify your name." The dance ended. I had joined hands with the Rebbe and my hand felt hot where he had held it. The Chazan completed the repetition of the Benedictions. The service finished with Alenu and I prayed the parts I did not find offensive. The Rebbe invited me to his home for Seudah Shleshelt, the third Sabbath meal. The invitation was delivered by the prancer. He called the meal Shala Seudas. "Come to the Rebbe's Tisch for Shala Seudas. He personally invites you." The messenger did not sound altogether pleased that I had been invited. The Rebbe's Tisch was held on an oversized table at his home. Ten men from the congregation were invited. The Rebbe's wife and another woman set the food on the table. They both wore black scarves tightly bound to skulls that must have been shaven. They also wore identical black silk dresses draped loosely over their bodies. The dresses were worn to a point exactly halfway between the knee and ankle. The sleeves covered their arms to the wrist. Their hands were exceptionally white in contrast to the dark sleeves. They wore identical gold wedding bands. I looked at the hands and the band of the younger woman and tried to make eye contact. She looked at me sadly and vacantly, then avoided my stare. The women served with the aloofness of servants. The younger woman looked towards her husband, the prancer. He avoided her eyes. The woman sat separately with the female grandchildren, and daughters and granddaughters of the Rebbe's followers. Their room adjoined the kitchen. One of the grandchildren, a beautiful child of four or five with wide aqua eyes, stared at me. I smiled. She looked around to see if she was being watched, and feeling momentarily safe, smiled back.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern I sat near the Rebbe and listened as he chanted the 23rd Psalm. He slowly repeated a prayer in Aramaic and then taught some laws from the Schulchan Aruch, which to this day is the authorized code of conduct for Orthodox Jewery.

1)"One should be meticulous in fulfilling the order of the Seudah Shleshet. If one is satiated let them fulfill their obligation by eating a portion of bread the size of an egg. According to some Rabbinic authorities the obligation may be fulfilled with a slice of bread the size of an olive.

2)The time of Seudah Shleshelt is from one half hour after midday until sunset only. Before or after that time one does not fulfill their obligation.

3)The meal is obligatory for women as well as men. All laws of the Sabbath apply equally to men and women. This includes breaking bread with two loaves of Challah at each of the three Sabbath meals. The women may be included in the blessing of the men."

The third law I felt the Rebbe directed at me. I could not keep myself from staring at the women in their separate room. Were they content in their separateness? The women served the remainder of the meal, and with steadfastness avoided my stares. The Rebbe asked the prancer to say a Stikl Torah, a short discourse on the Torah in honor of the meal. The prancer looked in my direction and taught: We learn in Avos: Yosi the son of Yochanan of Jerusalem said: Let your house be open to all, treat the poor as members of your own home and do not indulge excessively in conversation with the women. Concerning one's own wife this is said. How much more so with the wife of another! From this the Sages have concluded: Anyone who indulges excessively in conversation with a woman causes evil to himself, neglects Torah, and in the end will inherit Gehennon (Hell). The prancer expounded on this Mishnah in the Ethics of the Fathers, still glaring at me. I ignored him and smiled at his daughter. The Rebbe said his own Devor Torah. "Ah, my son-in-law speaks from the Ethics of the Fathers. A good text. A basic text. We must always remember the basics. Moses received the Torah from Sinai and passed it to Joshua. The Mishnah uses the Hebrew, Masra. A basic Torah from Moses on Sinai, passed to Joshua and from Joshua to the Elders, from the Elders to the Prophets and the Prophets passed it on to the Rabbis of the Great Assembly. An unbroken chain, the Torah is passed from God to Moses to the Children of Israel. Mesorah. Our unbroken golden chain of tradition. This is basic, and essential. The Rabbis of the Great Assembly taught three principles:

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern 1)Be deliberate in judgment 2)Raise up many disciples 3)Make a fence around the Torah "Three basics. Be deliberate in judgment. This is directed to the judge. Take time in your legal deliberations. Don't rush to judgment. We can also learn from this principle. Not all you see before you is as you first perceive it to be. Take your time. Be deliberate in judgment." "Raise up many disciples. Ah, Baruch Hashem - Thank God. Many students all well versed in the wisdom literature. Ah." I sat listening quietly enchanted by the Rebbe's English, which he spoke fluently, but with an Eastern European accent. I liked the term wisdom literature. The Rebbe continued: "A fence around the Torah. Essential. Another basic. The masses would trample the garden and even cut down the tree. A fence is needed to protect the Holy Torah. A Hedge. As the rose has her thorns to protect the perfect flower," I wondered about the fence. It might protect the Torah, but also prevent all from entering the garden. The men got up to wash their hands after the meal, in preparation for Grace. I wandered into the women's dining room. The women were in the kitchen. Dishes were stacked in high towers, waiting to be cleaned after the Sabbath. I found a book and sat on the couch. The young girl came over and sat next to me. She spoke a little English. I wished her a good Sabbath and smiled. She stared at me. Her eyes were the color of the sky reflected in the sea. The pupils dilated into large black islands. I could hear her lashes flutter. She leaned towards me to look into the book, and kissed the back of my hand. I put my arm around her and we both stared blankly at the book. The prancer came into the room and glared. He ordered his daughter in Yiddish to go help in the kitchen. He stared and paraphrased the Song of Songs. "I have a daughter; she has no breasts yet ... if she is a wall I will build around her a palace of silver. If she be a door I will board her up and enclose her with beams of cedar." I stared back, mystified. The prancer made me feel unclean. I imagined the Torah and his daughter enclosed by a fence that reached into the heavens. The top of the fence was hedged with barbed wire. I followed him into the men's dining room. After the Grace, the Rebbe spoke of the departing Sabbath. "Now is a time of sadness and expectation. The Sabbath is leaving for another week, but perhaps with evening and the first stars, the Messiah will come to redeem his people." My thoughts were interrupted by a knee rubbing mine. The Rebbe began a song: I believe with perfect faith in the coming of the Messiah, the Messiah and even though He is slow in coming still I await him every day, that He will come every day that He will come.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern We lingered over the third meal until the day passed into night. A Chassid saw three medium-sized stars in one glance and the Sabbath ended. We left the Rebbe's dark table and went to his synagogue for the evening prayer and Havdalah, the service that officially marks the separation of the Sabbath and the week to come. The Rebbe informed the prancer that I was to hold the braided Havdalah candle. He glared at me again, now with open hostility, and searched my face. I did not know what he was looking for, what he thought I might be hiding. The Rebbe performed Havdalah. He cupped a goblet of wine in his right hand and recited selections from the psalms and then "who creates the fruit of the vine" blessing over the wine. The goblet was filled to overflowing and purple wine spilled on to his hand. He transferred the cup to his left hand, and with his right, lifted an ornate handcarved wooden spice box and recited the appropriate blessing. The spice box was passed around and the Rebbe returned the goblet to his right hand and recited: "Blessed art Thou, Adonai, our God, King of the universe, who creates the lights of fire." The Rebbe half cupped his hands and looked at his fingernails. The fire of the candle I held was reflected in his glasses. The Rebbe's eyes were aflame. He recited the concluding benediction: "Blessed art Thou, Adonai, our God, King of the universe, who makes a distinction between sacred and profane, between light and darkness, between Israel and the nations, between the seventh day and the six work days. Blessed art You, Adonai, who distinguishes between sacred and profane." The Chassidim and students prayed more prayers. The Rebbe extinguished the candle with the wine after he drank most of the cup. The dandy and others dipped their pinkies in the wine, putting it on their jackets, on their eyelids and behind their ears. The Sabbath's perfume to be savored in the week to come. The dandy tersely informed me the Rebbe wanted to speak to me. The Rebbe and I had a lengthy discussion about the final blessing of Havdalah. Again I was disturbed by the identification of Israel with light and the Nations with darkness. "We" the scared. "They" the profane. I did not view the world from this We/They dichotomy. The Rebbe argued that I missed the point of the Havdalah. "Distinctions." "The word Havdalah is similar to kedusha, holiness. The Sabbath begins with kiddish, an act of distinction and holiness. The act of kiddish is completed in Havdalah." I did not feel he spoke to my point but submitted to his stronger convictions. I also did not argue when he told me we would continue our discussion at his home. The Rebbe's study was enclosed by walls of books, including holy books in Hebrew and Aramaic and a section of Jewish spiritual classics in English translation. The Rebbe's English was on the elevated level of these translations, the wisdom literature. The study was large; a room he lived in and where he received his

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Chassidim to dispense spiritual guidance. My eyes traced the pattern of the Persian rug we walked on. The Rebbe drew the heavy magenta curtains. A key hung on the inside of the door to the study. We sat on a couch as long and large as a bed and drank tea prepared from an antique samovar that had belonged to the Rebbe's grandfather. His grandfather, the Rebbe explained, was the head of a Chassidic dynasty in eastern Europe and a descendent of Rabbi Israel Bal Shem Tov, the founder of the Chassidic movement. We both looked at a portrait of the Chassid etched in lines of small Hebrew letters, formed from the text of his Chassidic text Esh Hasimcha from beginning to end. The Rebbe continued to stare at the text that was his grandfather. I noticed he held his teacup with the daintiness of an aristocrat. The Rebbe stopped looking, or reading, and indicated that he was ready to discuss the wisdom literature. "You are no doubt familiar with," the Rebbe began, "the text of the Bible. The Five Books of Moses, Prophets, Writings. What we refer to as Tanach. This is the basis of the wisdom literature." "I have also studied Mishna and Gemora and Midrash," I offered. "Ah, excellent, excellent. They are the basis of the oral tradition of the wisdom literature." "If it is an oral tradition, why is it written?" I asked. "Yes," the Rebbe said. "You know how to question. This is the basis of the process of the oral section of the wisdom literature. You have a promising future as a Talmudist. We studied today at Shalla Shudas, a test of the wisdom literature, 'Moses received the Torah at Sinai." The Torah Moses received was not only a text, but also it's authoritative interpretation by the oral tradition. Moses also received, you remember, the Hebrew word is kebel, the mystical interpretation of the holy text, the kabbalah. This was also passed on by Moses as an oral secret mystical tradition. After Moses, the wisdom of the Jews diminished each generation. The ability to remember the vast quantities of oral tradition was lost and our great teachers of the Mishna began to write down these summations of the Law. These were finally redacted by Rabbi Judah the Prince in the second century C.E. in the form we now study as the written Mishna." "From the second to the sixth century, our holy teachers studied the Mishna. Collections of oral traditions not codified in the Mishna were also extant at the various Rabbinic academies, and these, along with the Mishna, became the basis of the Gemora, oral discussions of the Mishnaic traditions that were eventually redacted, in Palestinian and Babylonian Aramaic, by Ravina and Rav Asi. The Gemora, is in a way, similar to the minutes of the proceedings of the Rabbinic academies concerning the legal nuances of the Mishna. Their abbreviated form leaves each line open to discussion and interpretation. One cannot be a good Jew without being fluently conversant in this material." "The process continues today" I asked. "Yes, exactly. But back to the Gemora." The Rebbe controlled the

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern direction of our conversation. He gave the answer in what sounded like a practiced speech. "Rashi, Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki Zal frames the text of each page of the Talmud, on the inside." "What then is the difference between Gemora and Talmud?" "Essentially they are the same, the teachings of our sages. Gemora technically refers to discussions on the Mishna from the second to the sixth century. Talmud includes Mishna and Gemora." "Again Rashi frames the inside of the text, giving a simple explanation of its meaning. Rashi's disciples, the Baeli Tossafot, comment and cross reference of the outside of each page. The Mishna is arranged in six orders including agricultural laws, the holy holidays and the Sabbath, the laws of women and family life, damages, the holy sacrifices, and purities and impurities. The Talmudic discussion reads like a stream of consciousness, following legal principles. A debate of the four main categories of damages shifts to a similar problem on the Sabbath in defining the thirty nine categories of word forbidden on that day." "In other words, one must know the entire body of Talmudic literature to make sense of any one section." "Yes, again quite perceptive of you." The Rebbe took down a giant folio album of the Talmud, tractate Brachot. He opened to the first page. I had studied this text briefly my final year in Hebrew high school. Our text had been voweled and punctuated. The actual text of the Talmud now before me contained only consonants, and no punctuation. Rashi and Tossafot were written in an exotic script I could not read. "Imagine," the Rebbe said, "an encyclopedia written without punctuation and arranged by abstract principles rather than by subject matter." "Thank God for Rashi," I said, looking for another compliment. "Yes, thank God." The Rebbe continued his speech. "The Talmud is the longest sentence ever written. The Jew must learn to vowel, punctuate, read, and sing this sentence if he is to grasp the wisdom literature. This sentence is the basis of the guidelines our tradition sets for every action in our daily lives." "If one is not conversant in the entire body of the law, then he will not know how to act Jewish?" I asked. The Rebbe chose to interpret my question as a statement, and expression of intent. "Come, let's learn." He read the first statement of the first Mishna in the Talmud. "From what time do we say the evening Shema?" I remembered from high school that the Gemora asks why we begin with the evening and not the morning and raised the question myself. I remembered and recited the answer. The Rebbe was pleased. I noticed that the root of the first word, Meaimatai, was similar to the root for the Hebrew word for fear. I retranslated the Mishna, turning its question into a statement: "With awe, read the evening Shema." The Rebbe removed his glasses and sighed. "Already you are

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern discovering the secrets of the Torah. You have a great future in Judaism, Reb Aryeh ben Avraham." The Rebbe continued his speech in the wisdom literature. "The Generation of Maimonides, like our own, was weak and unlearned. They could not recite the sentence one needs to know to be a Jew. People forgot the study of the Talmud. In the time of the Mishna, the law was arranged topically. If one needed to know how to tithe their produce, they looked in the first order of the Mishna on 'Seeds' and so on. Maimonides evaluated all of the legal material up to his time and rearranged the Gemora into a compendia of Jewish law accessible to all, in Hebrew, by topics. A monumental accomplishment. Maimonides, the Rambam Zal called his work, Mishna Torah, a second Torah. "What does Zal mean?" "Zechrono Lebracha, may his memory be a blessing. The Rambam gave the Jews an authoritative distillation of the Gemora in one work." "So it was no longer necessary to study the Gemora?" "This was the fear of some of the Rabbis. The Gemora is still the basis of all study in the wisdom literature. The Rambam thought his work would be a final distillation, but may commentaries have been written on the Mishna Torah, and other authoritative works followed. Still, "the Rebbe said, "from Moses to Moses, there is no one like Moses." "The main authority today, and his authority is final, is the Schulcan Aruch of the Rabbi Yosef Caro Zal." "Then I must read the Schulcan Aruch for the most modern distillation of the wisdom literature." "Yew." "Excellent," I said. "Where can I find the laws pertaining to the rebuilding of the Third Temple on the Mountain of Moriah?" "Actually, this is not in the Schulcan Aruch," the Rebbe stammered. "You must go to Maimonides." The Rebbe was silent a few moments and then continued. "The Schulcan Aruch is like the portable Ark of the Covenant the Jews received at Sinai. It serves its function outside the land of Israel. Maimonides' Mishna Torah is like the Temple itself. It serves the functions the temple served once the Jews are returned to their land by God." I thought of the three laws the Rebbe had taught at Seuda Sleshet. They seemed overly meticulous and picayune. The laws relating to women were outdated and discriminating. I almost asked if men could be included in the blessings of women, but asked instead: "The world has certainly changed dramatically since the 16th century. How does the Schulcan Aruch keep up with these changes?" "The Schulcan Arch is not a fixed text chiseled into stone. Each page is surrounded by commentary and super commentary. Eastern European Rabbis added their own interpretations and customs. Decisions based on the Schulcan Aruch are made to this day." "So the Schulcan Aruch is the classic text of the wisdom literature. I will have to read it." "You do not read the Schulcan Aruch. Reb Aryeh, you study it. In

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern answer to your question, in matters of Halacha Le Masseh, which means: the laws of acting in our everyday life, how to rise in the morning, what blessings to say, when to say the morning Shema, the proper blessings over food, the evening Shema, the Shema before retiring, the laws of the Sabbath from kiddush to Havdalah, the laws of holidays, marriage, divorce, lost and found objects, and so on. Yes, the Schulcan Aruch is our authoritative source." "This is fine for diaspora Judaism," I said, "but now that we are in Israel?" "Reb Aryeh, we are still in the diaspora." Not thinking, I said, "I am in Israel." The Rebbe ignored the remark. "The laws of the future," he explained, "in a redeemed Israel and Jerusalem, may it come speedily in our days, the Hilcheta de Meshicha, the laws of the messianic time are to be found in the Rambam Zal's Mishna Torah. "I will study those laws!" "Where?" "In university." The Rebbe scowled. "The university world has no use for the Messiah. They intellectualize our belief on the coming of the Messiah into a belief in the messianic age. Reformers. They imagine that the state's establishment ended the exile. Instead it marked the beginning of exile's darkest hours." "Zionism," the Rebbe said, almost spitting out the word. "The latest and most devious Messianic pretender! Forget about university. From the university you get only an ivory tower view of Judaism. A tower of Babel that claims to speak a language of wisdom and universality. To learn wisdom you must descend the tower and sit in an institution that teaches real wisdom, based on the truth, the Torah. The root of the word Yeshiva is Yoshav, sitting. You want wisdom, sit, learn, meditate on the eternal truths of Torah." "Will you come and learn with us?" "Who were the other Messianic pretenders?" I answered his question with a question. "The most famous, of course, Yuski." I squinted my face in ignorance. Yehoeshua. He wouldn't even mention the name of Jesus. He said "Yuski, may his name be erased and his bones be ground to dust. His teachings in the so-called New Testament became the basis for a renegade religion that eventually hacked at the bough from which it grew. The tree can survive the loss of the limb, but not the limb the death of the tree." "I haven't the time to list all the messianic pretenders in our heritage. The messiahs of Yemen, Rabbi Avraham Abulafia Zal, Asher Lemmlein, Molkho, Reubeni, Shabbetei Zvi, Zal." The Rebbe reddened as though he had made a mistake. I was unaware of the cause of his embarrassment. "Some of these pretenders had the potential to be the Messiah, but failed. Others were out and out frauds and charlatans." "And what does Chassidism teach about the Messiah?"

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "We believe with perfect faith in the coming of the Messiah." "That's it?" "Yes, in its essence. Each Jew has within himself an element of the Messiah which they must bring to flower and fruit. The Messiah comes when we reach this inner perfection. Each Jew has a spark of the Messiah." "Even women?" I asked, unable to hold my tongue. "The women's spark burns in her husband," the Rebbe answered. "We must not be afraid of distinctions," he added. "Nu," the Rebbe said. "Reb Aryeh, you cannot avoid the question. Will you come and learn?" "I really need time to think," I stammered. "Nu, well think. Look into yourself. Take an accounting of your soul. To choose to be a Jew, to exercise you free will, you must master the wisdom literature." The Rebbe's next attack was more direct. "You mouth all the bromides and slogans of a faddish modernism like a believer in that catechism. Women are the same as men. Israel the same as the nations. Your head is on upside down from all the nonsense you picked up in the states, living in a Christian society. The Jew sanctifies by distinctions. Distinctions are made by choices. Will you choose to be a Jew?" I had no answers for the Rebbe. "Nu," the Rebbe continued, reaching into a cabinet for a bottle of scotch whiskey, "if I cannot appeal to your head, perhaps I can appeal to your heart." He poured us each a full tumbler of whisky and ordered, "Nu, make a Lechaim!" "Lechaim," I said, sipping the whiskey. The Rebbe tipped his glass saying, "Nu, nu," indicating I should do the same. In response to my uninspired toast he said: "To Reb Aryeh ben Avraham, the reluctant intellectual from California, a blessing, a life full of Torah and Mitzvot, a kosher home and commitment to Hashem. May his mind be involved with the divine dialogues of the wisdom literature. May his heart be captured by the rapture of the Chassid. May he rule in a home full of Torah and children and good deeds. May he become a leader and teacher in Israel."

Dream Sabbath

I was silent and the Rebbe said "Amen" to his blessing. The whiskey went straight to my head. I sang one or two wordless Chassidic melodies with the Rebbe and then fell asleep. He got up and locked the door. A flash of white light. I wrapped myself in the light, which became a prayer shawl without the black stripes. My robe was white as were all my garments from sashes to shoes. I wore an ermine white fur cap. The letters of the prayer book were white on the white pages.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern The Sabbath was beginning. I prayed and departed for home and the evening meal. My disciples greeted me: "A good Sabbath Rebbe Aryeh." "A guten Shabbas," I answered. Three white angels followed me home. My wife greeted me at the door. He face was pale white. She was wrapped in garments of black. She stared at me with wide open aqua eyes full of love. The eyes of the prancer's daughter. I recited the Shalam A Laychem three times to greet each of the white angels who had accompanied me to my holy home. My wife did not sing because "a woman's voice is likened to her nakedness." I sang "The Women of Valor" to my wife. My sons, all in white, sang with me the Sabbath songs. The girls, in black, watched wide-eyed. My children were living branches of the Tree of Life, full of Torah and Mitzvot. They were miniature replicas of myself and my wife. The Messiah had come. We lived in the real Israel, in a rebuilt Jerusalem. The Messiah was to be our dinner guest. He had not arrived. We waited late into the night. He did not come. May his memory be for a blessing. This was the night I, a Torah scholar, would unite with God through my wife. We retired to our bedroom. The bedposts were carved Torah scroll holders inlaid with ivory. The double beds were the two sides of a rolled scroll. The bedspread was a sequined Torah cover inscribed with verses in praise of the Almighty. The single candles which some authorities allowed behind a partition, cast our shadows on the wall. My beloved moved her black head scarf. Her freshly shaven skull was radiant in the candlelight. I saw reflected in its clear surface our children and our children's children, and all the generations of Jews who would sprout from our sacred union. I sang to my beloved the Song of songs, encouraged her with words of Torah. I was the God of the heavens ready to rain my sacred seed on her, the open ground of Israel. Following the advice of the Holy Rabbi, Moses ben Nachman, I watered the ground before planting the seeds. We did not touch from head to toe, my holy member entering only her sacred secret place. I awoke disoriented. The Rebbe sat with a cigarette in his left hand. His right hand was in his robe. He was stroking himself. Between index and middle fingers, he held a thick photograph by its edge. My awakening startled the Rebbe. I was afraid he was going to burn me with the cigarette. He quickly drew his hand away. Lying on my back, I was in an easy position to kick him in the face. Instead I laughed at this ridiculous fantasy seduction and swung my legs around, rising from the couch. I unlocked the door to the Rubes study and left his home quickly.

Rehov Jaffa: Welcome to Earthly Jerusalem

From the narrow streets I fled, not only from the Rebbe, but also

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern from Mea Sharim. I walked without direction and found myself on Jaffa Road. The dim medieval light of Mea Sharim changed to the bright festive lights of Jerusalem's main street. An Israeli police woman in a navy blue jacket and short skirt stood graceful legs and directed traffic. Khaki solders, some in white embroidered miniature skullcaps, strolling the streets hand in hand with their girlfriends. The streets were so crowded that it was impossible to walk without being brushed by others. The smell of fresh roasted nuts, ground coffee and sizzling lamb flavored the air. I was happy and hungry. I had finally arrived in the Israel of the twentieth century.

*****

Isaac had described in letters crushed round balls of garbonzo beans deep-fried in a pocket bread called pita. The golden brown balls are stuffed into the pocket, covered with chopped tomato and cucumber and a liquid sesame sauce, and eaten with plenty of napkins. Isaac, still a confirmed vegetarian, lived on them. Falaffels. I ordered one from a restaurant on the street. The vendor pinched the bread open in his hand to insert the balls and the bread seemed to smile. Still slightly tipsy from the whiskey, I smiled back. The sandwich left me thirsty so I drank a few beers, and ordered another half falaffel. I paid almost a dollar for a pack of American cigarettes, sat back, smoked, and watched the children of the modern state of Israel parade by. Many were young, my age. Together with the state of Israel we were yet emerging from the years of our adolescence. I was overwhelmed by the dark beauty of the women. They expertly avoided my eyes. Those who glanced back looked at me in wonder. One moved close, stared, and actually laughed. I paid my tab and left, walking up and down both sides of the street. It felt glorious being part of a crowd that made no pretense of holiness. My throat felt dry and I entered a bar on the end of a side street near a park. The bar was full of students and soldiers. They all seemed to stare me at me when I entered. Perhaps they stare at everyone who enters, I thought to myself. I moved to a corner and ordered a beer. After the initial attention, I was ignored. An Israeli student walked over and asked for a cigarette. She asked in Hebrew. She left with a broad smile, the other patrons of the bar avoided my eyes. A tall, well-built Sephardic woman entered the bar and looked around. She greeted the bartender. He shrugged and moved his head toward where I was sitting. The woman walked in my direction. The swaying of her hips seemed exaggerated. She was as tall as I, almost six feet, but wore high heels. Her own wide heels hung over the end of the backless shoes. I did not know where to look first. Her legs were broad

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern and strong, well-muscled, like a dancer's. The blue sequined skirt caught the light and dazzled before my eyes. Her thighs below the mini skirt looked soft and inviting. Her breasts were pointed and propped high by a tight bra. A silver Star of David dangled over her cleavage. Her hair was as dark as the Jerusalem night. She stared straight into my eyes and smiled. I was the first to look away. "Do you study in Jersualem?" she asked in accented English. I insisted we speak Hebrew. "Why not Yiddish?" she joked. I looked at her dumbly. "Nu, Lo Chashuv" she said. "Buy me a drink!" She helped herself to a cigarette. I wondered if all Israeli women were so forward. She finished her drink, took my hand, and led me out of the bar. People stared and smiled. Her name was Shoshana, she said. She did not look like a Shoshana. We walked down Jaffa Road hand in hand. Everyone seemed to smile or take notice. A young religious couple looked at me and scowled. They were about to say something but we walked away too quickly. "How old are you?" I asked in Hebrew, attempting to start a conversation. "Twenty-one." "Do you attend university?" "Yes," she said mockingly, pointing to the street, "and this is my laboratory." "Where are we walking to?" "Where do you think?" she said. Confused and aroused, I prayed we were going to her apartment. We entered a dimly lit hall to an apartment house that was rundown. In the dark I noticed a round illuminated switch. She stood her distance and asked in Hebrew: "How much am I worth to you?" "What?" "Nu, Rabbi, what are we here for, a Purim spiel?" I was not sure I understood her Hebrew. "Is your room upstairs?" "No, I don't live here." "Aren't we going to your room?" "I don't believe my father and brother would approve," she laughed cynically. "Nu, how much am I worth to you?" she repeated. I finally understood. "Let's talk," I said. "Talk also costs." "I've never paid before. What is the price?" "Fifteen American dollars. Twenty five for French." "Regular will be fine," I said. She turned her back towards me and slowly raised her skirt as she bent over against the wall. "Regular," I said, not understanding. I felt unclean and imagined that the semen in Shoshana's vagina

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern was gritty, actual seeds. Perhaps they were the mixed seeds of Arabs, Christians, Armenians and Jews, making her holy place an ecumenical temple, perhaps a meeting ground that would produce an ecumenical Messiah that would mediate between Jerusalem's many factions. Shoshana looked backed at me again with a look demanding that I finish. "If this takes more time it will cost you more money." I leaned over to touch her breasts, but could not reach them. "If I could kiss you." I said. "No. No kissing," she hissed. The moment I came I began to cry. "If only I had kissed you," I whispered, "if only I had loved you." She shook her head. "Go home to Mea Sharim, the hour is late."

*****

I walked towards Mea Sharim suddenly feeling very sober. At Toldat Aaron I gathered my bags, called a taxi and gave the driver Isaac's address. Rommema. No one had touched the bags over the Sabbath. It is a Mitzvah not to steal.

The Binding of Isaac

Isaac was at the gate of the Yeshiva. It was after midnight. I hoped he had not been waiting for me. He looked at me with eyes wide-open and grinned. I looked back at his short cropped hair and Rabbinic beard and panicked. I felt calmed only when I saw no sidelocks. We unloaded my bags and backpack. After paying the driver I stood back a moment to examine the new Isaac. He wore blue trousers and a white long-sleeved shirt with no tie, as is the custom of the modern orthodox in Jerusalem. His feet were modestly sheathed in thin black socks under his sandals. Tzitzit, ritual fringes, dangled at his side. His head was crowned with a large knitted blue and white skullcap. Isaac's beard was full and luxuriant, giving such a young man an ageless quality. Isaac's hair, the color of ripe wheat, had been parted in the middle, flowing smoothly to the ears. From the ears downward, soft curls had fallen to his shoulders in luxuriant locks. His hair was now parted on the right side, the curls shorn. Even without sidelocks, he looked like a young orthodox Rabbi. Isaac laughed, walked over to me and bearhugged me warmly. I hugged him back. "And what is this?" he said, pointing to my white skullcap from

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Toldat Aaron. I had forgotten about my Chassidic cap and pointed to it as my mouth fell open. Isaac playfully flicked the fringe on the top of the cap from one side to the other. Students in various deliberate disguises returned to the Rabbinic academy. Some wore all black and passed freely among the ultra-orthodox of Jerusalem. Others wore casual university clothes or jeans with flannel shirts. All wore skullcaps of various shapes and sizes. Isaac and I sat in the garden on a bench near the back entrance and talked. Isaac put his arm around me. After the Rebbe, I flinched. He did not seem to notice and I continued describing the plane flight, the train ride through the Judean hills, my walk through the old city and the Sabbath with Rabbi Meir and Rebbe Satman. When I told Isaac about Shoshana, tears came to my eyes. He comforted me. Isaac realized I was exhausted and took me to his room.

*****

I woke early but Isaac was already up. I found him in the walnut-paneled room with the Holy Ark. He was meditating before the morning prayer. Enwrapped in a white prayer shawl, he appeared in a trance. Isaac was about to put his Tefillin on. His hands were shaking. He placed the black box on the side of his left biceps and held it near his heart. The long leather straps he wound around his arm, too tightly I thought. Isaac recited a blessing on laying the Tefillin. He donned the Tefillin of the head, adjusting the black box with the Hebrew letter ( ) on both sides so that it was exactly between his eyes near the top of his head, bordering the hairline. He wore Tefillin of the head like a crown. He stood and recited another blessing. His body seemed to tremble. I asked, so Isaac explained the symbolism of the mysterious black boxes. After the story of the Chassidic "film," he knew I was skeptical about their spiritual value. "The Tefillin of the head crowns our intellect, indicating that all our thoughts should be directed towards God. Together they symbolize the binding if the words of our hearts and the meditations of our lips in every action; the binding of emotion and intellect." "Isaac," I said, thinking of his vow not to eat flesh, "they are leather." "Yes. So are my shoes. I have not yet reached the level where I derive no benefit from the carcasses slaughtered for flesh. I cannot think of what material I could make Tefillin out of without adding to the precepts of the Torah revealed to Moses at Sinai." I regretted raising the topic. This was a different Isaac from my friend in Laguna. He spoke and thought like a Rabbi. We now lived in different worlds.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern The prayer service began. It would last over three quarters of an hour. The Yeshiva prayed slowly, taking into account that new students were either still learning the language or the prayers. Each weekday over fifty pages of Hebrew were repeated at the morning service alone. The same fifty pages. An old Chassid who prayed with the Yeshiva, followed in his prayer book, even though he obviously knew the text by heart. I skimmed, skipping entire sections that baffled me. We asked God to remember us favorably for the merit of the binding of Isaac by Abraham. I thought of Isaac's insights into this story. The laws of burnt offerings, a "pleasing odor to God!?" were recited daily. The slaughter of the animals and even the sprinkling of their blood was described. It sounded like a pagan festival to me. How could Isaac stomach such gruesome worship, I asked myself. The Psalms in the service I recited with joy. Then we came to Moses' song at the sea. I began to recite the prayer and stopped. I could not sing praises to the Lord while "the Egyptians were dead on the seashore." This was a time for silence, not a time for song. God's retribution was our salvation: "This is my God and I will glorify him The God of my father and I will exalt him." The Hebrew was overpowering. Za Eli Veanvahu Eloha Avi Va Arammahu The most problematic part of the prayer followed: "The Lord is a man of war The Lord is His name He hurls Pharaoh's chariots and his armies into the sea." I could not utter the words and was silent. I prayed again after the public call to prayers: Blessed art Thou who forms light and creates darkness who makes peace, and creates all things. The juxtaposition was dramatic. All things that are not Shalom, peace, are darkness. I repeated the verse, like a mantra, over and over, meditating on its meaning. The worshipers covered their eyes to recite the Shema. The words were recited slowly and with intention to fulfill the Mitzah. The first paragraph of the Shema went well, but I stopped in the middle of the second. It seemed I could not sit even a few minutes without a heretical thought. Revealed before my eyes was the "Otherside" of my religion, a side I had not glimpsed in California. When I was younger I felt I would be able to pray properly when I knew the meaning of the words. In Hebrew school we chanted, in Hebrew, meaningless mantras. Now that I understood the prayers, My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. God strikes a bargain with the Jews. You fulfill the commandments and serve me with all your heart and soul, and I promise to send the rain in its proper season and all good blessings. But if you are lured away, and turn astray and worship alien gods, my wrath will flare up. The heavens will dry up as will the teat of its

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern milk. You will swiftly perish from the good land I, God, Have given you. For some religious Jews this sums up the relationship between God and man in history. I had only one thought. God sounded terribly insecure to me. I recited the eighteen benedictions omitting the work "King" everywhere it appeared in a blessing. My God was not the Grand Monarch in the sky. The prayers for a restoration of the sacrifices and fire offerings I also omitted. We came to the end of the service. I said only part of the Alenu. No one took any notice of my omissions. I looked over at Isaac and he seemed pleased we were praying together. At breakfast, more prayers. One had to be an expert in the various blessings before food to eat in the Yeshiva. It was easiest to eat bread, the blessing over which covered all varieties of food. I washed my hands, reciting a blessing, and then chanted the blessing over the bread: Blessed art Thou Adonai, our God, King of the universe who brings forth bread from the earth. I said a bit mockingly, "I'm too ignorant to anything but bread." I was ignored. Students chanted the appropriate blessings over various food, a separate blessing for; the five species of grain, tree-grown fruits, earth-grown fruits, and an all inclusive blessing for meat, fish, eggs, cheese, mushrooms, etc., all in the appropriate order. One entire section of the Mishna and Talmud was based on the problem "How do we bless the food?" I shook my head in amazement. "You," Isaac said quietly but firmly, "should learn the meaning of eating that is revealed by reciting these blessings. The holiness that is in food must be offered up for divine service, or it feeds only the animal soul." Isaac indicated my belly straining against my belt. I asked Isaac why the blessing for bread said "who brings forth bread from the earth." Surely it should say "who brings forth wheat from the earth." Isaac was pleased and amused by the question. All were quiet to hear his answer: "We say 'who brings forth bread from the earth' because of the care of those who nurture the seed. The heavens rain from above, the earth offers her soil and minerals below. The farmer furrows the land, joining the divine process. He plants, waits, watches, and prays that the seed will germinate and grow. The stalks follow their inner nature and proudly raise themselves to the sun. They pray themselves as they sway in the breeze. The ever faithful farmer harvests and threshes. The baker grinds the grain into flour and molds the dough into loaves. The bread is brought to this table as though it grew already formed from the earth as bread. All have faithfully completed their parts in the divine process. We then are obligated to uplift the bread to acknowledge its maker. The students swayed back and forth as Isaac spoke. Thus, they applauded silently as he finished. I felt that I had lost Isaac to a circle of holiness and community of which I had no part. Isaac had joined the Pharisees. I was silent the rest of

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern the meal and mumbled the overlong grace after meals. We returned to the study hall and I began rereading Genesis while Isaac studied Talmud with Shlomo in preparation for the advanced lecture to be given in the afternoon. I wrote questions on the text in Hebrew in a small notebook used for addresses and telephone numbers. I also ordered the questions I wanted to ask Isaac about when he finished his study session. The first question I asked was not even on the list. "Why is everyone bobbing back and forth when they pray and study?" "They are shokeling." "That helps." "There are many reasons given for shokeling. A mystic would answer that the movement is like the flickering of the candle flame on the wick burning ever upwards toward its source. A practical reason; because of a lack of books, two students would read from one text between them. One read upside down the other right side up. One moved towards the text to read, then moved away for the other to read." I imagined the two losing the tempo of the shokeling, absorbed in thought, and bumping heads, and I laughed. "Actually," Isaac said, "even today some people can read a text from all angles because their communities, at one time, lacked holy books. The old Jews of Yemen I study with in Mea Sharim still have this skill. Perhaps the best answer based on tradition is that every bone of our body quakes in divine worship. The Talmud relates (Brechot 31A) that when Rabbi Akiba prayed, he would begin in one corner of a room and end up in another. His intense devotion was expressed by genuflections and prostration. The Chassidim relate this same story about Rabbi Israel Balshem Tov, the founder of their movement." Isaac certainly told me everything I needed to know about shokeling.

Messiah Dreams

I began with problems in praying. I described my abhorrence of the sacrificial passages in the morning prayers and Isaac was silent. "Do you say them?" I asked. Isaac answered, "Sacrificing animals was the ancients' prayer. Today we Daven, we pray. The old has been transformed and elevated by the flexibility of our tradition." "I will not give 'lip service' to those gruesome passages," I said. "And I will not sing with Moses and the children of Israel at the sea when they declared: "The Lord is a Man of War.'" "A better translation is 'Warrior,'" said Isaac. "So what's the difference?" "Ah, Laurence, Aryeh," Isaac sighed, sounding for the moment like an old Rabbi, "so many questions, so many questions." Isaac

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern looked around the room and then again at me. Others were listening. "We need to sit at least two months with various texts to begin to answer your questions." I was too dull to sense Isaac's reluctance to discuss this issue publicly. "Isaac," I said, "I will never worship a God who is a warrior." "You must remember," Isaac was forced to answer, "the God who takes the children of Israel out of Egypt, metaphorically fights with Israel when he splits the sea. God fights alongside Joshua and the children of Israel when they conquer the land. The themes are basic to our faith." I felt a flash of anger. Perhaps I would renounce the God of my people, but who was Isaac to speak of "our faith?" I was not even sure he had legally converted. "If you have time," Isaac offered patiently, "we will study this theme in depth together." "Tell me about the Messiah," I said, wanting to change the topic. Isaac laughed, "As I stand on one foot?" "No, you may remain seated." Isaac sat quietly and shokeled, gathering his thoughts. At the time I did not know before whom I sat, or of whom I asked these questions. Isaac decided that we should continue our talk in the garden.

Two Who Entered the Garden

"What can I tell you about the Messiah?" Isaac asked. "Will the Messiah restore the world to Eden, its state before Eve and Adam ate the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil?" I asked, thinking of my morning studies. "The serpent tells us our eyes will be open when we eat the fruit, and `You shall be as God, knowing good and evil.' (Gen. 2:5). After eating the fruit we are able to discern the duality of the world. The tree of knowledge becomes a tree of death, and a tree of suffering. Adam toils in the world for his bread and Eve waits at home for her children which are delivered with birth pains, in anguish. Our spiritual parents are exiled from the garden and the Tree of Life." "And if they had not eaten the apple?" I asked. Isaac looked towards the Yeshiva. "The fruit may have been a fig. Fig leaves were used for the first clothing. The text makes no mention of apples." Isaac looked at the path to the Yeshiva. We were alone. He continued: "They ate," Isaac said, "giving life meaning. The world of opposites was instantly manifested before their eyes, and there they stood, face to face, male and female. Soon they would learn of their mortality and how to join as one to defeat that mortality." "You make it sound like they had no choice. Did they have to eat the fruit and disobey God, committing what we call sin?"

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "We must remember that we have a story before us," Isaac said. "Only through Midrash am I able to give this story meaning." "No sin was committed?" I asked. "Certainly no original sin," Isaac answered. "In Adam's fall, we sinned all," I recited to remind Isaac of the traditional interpretation of scripture. "No," Isaac said. "No sin, no fall. With the act of one man, sin does not enter the world, nor does death by sin pass upon us all." I was not sure if Isaac was quoting a source or giving his own views. He seemed relieved in his speaking, as if he had laid down a burden he had been carrying in his mind. We were again surrounded by our circle of friendship and I was pleased. Isaac continued. "Death was in the beginning. Not comprehending death is the Fall." "Are you giving me the Jewish view?" I asked. "I am giving you my own view." Isaac's explanation did not seem to fit with the words or details of the Genesis narrative. I protested: "But we eat of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge and are denied the fruit of the Tree of LIfe." "So the text seems to indicate," Isaac said. "The essential thing I see, however, is that Eden and the Tree of Life are not destroyed. They are attainable." "How?" "By acknowledging that we have eaten the fruit of knowledge. The cosmos experiences a battle between what we call good and evil. Beyond that combat is the creator of the tree who is no duality. When our eyes are opened after eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, we become `as God'." "Do you mean to say the Tree of Life grows from within the Tree of Knowledge?" "And the Tree of Knowledge is contained in the Tree of Life." My mind was misting over. "Can you be more specific?" "The Torah is called a Tree of Life. Within Torah is the Knowledge of transcending dualities. This is the essence of the Shema." "Going back to your original question," Isaac said, "another way the Tree of Life is regained is through the Messiah." "What will the Messiah teach us about the Tree of Life?" I asked. "From the fruits of the Tree of Knowledge," Isaac answered, "we are keenly aware of our world. Cain cuts a branch from the tree, ties to it a piece of metal and fashions a hoe to till the earth. One day he is jealous of his brother and his God. He crouches at the door, and opens his brother's head with the hoe. Alone he weeps in his grief, with no brother to keep. We learn from Cain that it is wrong to kill."

*****

This idea is expressed poetically in the Psalms section of this Testament, my friend Theophilos, at the beginning of that Book.

*****

"The consensus of knowledge is that this act is wrong. We know in our hearts it is wrong. Yet, we kill again. This is the Fall, the Fall is not in the Knowledge. We lose the power to transform what we know into how we act." "Our world is filled with knowledge. Each generation our knowledge progresses and multiplies. We see the evolution with our own eyes. We feel its advance by the greater comforts in our lives, and we continue to kill, while the consensus of knowledge is that killing is wrong. Our century has witnessed more mass murder in our wars than in all the wars of the centuries up to our time! And, our century has seen the fastest acceleration of scientific knowledge in history, advancing geometrically every decade." "Perhaps we will be Redeemed by Wisdom," I offered. "Knowledge, understanding and wisdom are all contained within the Tree of knowing good and evil. But only the Halacha teaches how to put that knowledge into practice." I sat and contemplated all that Isaac taught. Isaac spoke with a voice of authority, but I needed to find my own mind on these themes. I had never understood the story of the Fall. I assumed in its raw literal form in Genesis that it was only a fable for children. Isaac gave the story meaning. Genesis opened up in front of me and I experienced a new beginning in my view of reality. Each part of creation is called "good" by God upon its completion. The totality of creation is very good. A man and a woman are planted in Eden and they experience the first fruits of knowledge. The snake shows them the path to divinity. Suddenly the first sin, Cain kills his brother. The generations to Noah became increasingly corrupt. Violence in their corruption. This is the Fall. The earth is flooded with violence yet baptized and cleansed by the waters. The water reflects the sign of a covenant of peace. I wanted to study Genesis again with Isaac. I thought of the accumulation of knowledge since Adam, spiraling forward and building upward like the Tower of Babel. I learned that with knowledge came progress. Evolution raises the species to higher and higher levels of progress and consciousness. On the top of the tower sit our greatest minds. Einstein sat there in his office of the patent department, finishing early theories that would illuminate, like the light of creation, the mechanics of the workings of the material particles of reality. Our modern day Prometheus discovered ultimate knowledge, how to change matter into energy by unsheathing the power of the atom. Extrapolating from the experience of centuries of war, I understood that our

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern civilization has reached its most significant moment since Cain broke a branch off the Tree of Knowledge to till the land. The technological revolution resulting from the peaceful use of the energy of the atom could light the world and fuel its engines. Civilizations would be free to pursue not only knowledge, but also wisdom. Yet my mind went numb when I imagined this branch in the hand of Cain. Hanging over my head was that same power in the form of nuclear missiles, like so many Swords of Damocles, suspended by a hair. I was shaken by the image, afraid to move. Science and technology were the new Messiahs, the newest fruits of the Tree of Knowledge. Did Einstein consider locking his theory in a drawer or throwing it into the fire? If we do not learn how to peacefully use this energy, I thought, then science would become the most dangerous and perhaps the final messianic pretender. All this from a simple metaphor in Genesis. Isaac waited patiently until I finished the thoughts of my theological speculations. "Within the Tree of Knowledge there also lives the Tree of Death," I said. Isaac shook his head and said: "Science has discovered a magic far beyond the quest of the alchemists. The material lead of creation is miraculously transformed into its golden form, energy, faster than the speed of light, and this new legacy was envisioned centuries ago by the apocalyptists." "But the apocalyptic vision of Gog and Magog," I protested, "is that the universe will be recreated only through destruction in a great final war in the end of time. Is this also the Jewish view?" Isaac laughed. I thought he also sensed the irony of my asking him to give me the authoritative Jewish view. "Not exactly," Isaac answered. "As I explained in my description of the earthly Jerusalem, we do not necessarily share the view of St. John in Revelation on the end of time. Actually it's really a question of how to read Revelations. Judaism has an entire library of apocalyptic literature. We are free to interpret the meaning of the visions. I pray that the 20th century, our age of barbarism, has experienced enough death and destruction. The martyrs of Hiroshima and Nagasaki experienced an end as grim as Gog and Magog." "In America," I said, "I met university students who say Gog and Magog is yet to come. They join Christian cults that quote chapter and verse as if their scripture is the history book of the future." "Yes," Isaac said. "In the little apocalypse of Mark, Jesus says that at the end of days we will hear of wars and rumors of wars. False messiahs will come and say `I am the anointed one.' Nation will rise up against nation to fight once more. Brother will betray brother, and the father his son. Children will rise up against their parents, putting them to death. The apocalyptic desolation dreamed of by Daniel will finally come to be. Only the

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern elect will be saved. Those members of whatever cult which calls themselves God's chosen ones." "The powers of the creation will be unleashed. The seals of John's great book of destruction will be broken. The sun will darken in contrast to the light of this destruction. The stars will seem to fall from the heavens. Peter in his second epistle, chapter three, describes the heavens passing away in a great noise. The elements melt in the heat of death. The earth is consumed by fire." "But God promised Noah never again to completely destroy our earth," I said innocently. I pictured the Messiah as a modern Noah completely consumed in his ark by the flood of fire.

The Rainbow

"What about the Rainbow?" I asked. "For those who literally believe in the apocalypse of the New Testament, the Rainbow's light shines only on the elect, the saved remnant." "And how do the Jews view the Rainbow?" "The Jews themselves hold two divergent views on the end of the world. One is `Catastrophic,' the other `Utopian,' to use Professor Scholem's terms." "So we also have a tradition of Gog and Magog." "Come," Isaac said, "I will show you inside." I followed Isaac from the garden back into the Yeshiva. Inside meant inside the Yeshiva and inside a text. Isaac rushed around the Yeshiva piling a tower of books between us. Most of the students were napping after lunch. Shlomo glanced in our direction. I sensed his resentment; I had taken away his study partner. Our first text was the Siddur, the prayer book. A Psalm I had read with the Chassidim when we received the Sabbath's presence with song and prayer. The Twenty Ninth Psalm, a Psalm of David. The voice of God divides the flame of fire. "The Lord sat at the flood." I did not understand this verse at the prayer service and I did not understand it now. Isaac explained that the Hebrew Yashav, means not only "to sit," but also "to return." "The Lord will return the flood. The Lord will sit (or return) as king." Then there could be another flood," I said. Attempting to imitate the Midrashic process. I reread the Psalm and said, "The Rainbow is a covenant that the earth will never again be destroyed by water. But God will return the flood. A flood of fire." I thought of films I had seen of the atomic bombs detonating over Nagasaki. "No," Isaac said. "We must read further." "The Lord will give strength to His people. The Lord will bless His people with peace."

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "What does this mean?" I asked. "That God will save the Jews from the flood of fire?" "As I see it, the Jews will help save the world by teaching the strength that is peace. Our blessing to the world will be a blessing of peace. As I explained, the law that goes forth from Zion, the true Zionism, is a law of peace. We shall rebuke the nations to turn their nuclear potential into energy that will power the plow, and to beat their laser spears into instruments of peace. Nations can no longer rattle their nuclear sabers against one another. We cannot wage war anymore." I was not satisfied with Isaac's answers. He was giving me his own personal interpretation of Jewish tradition and Zionism. Whatever political and ideological issues, the establishment of the state of Israel had been accompanied by war after war. I was aware of no doctrine of peace emanating to the diaspora. I did not consider any bible as a holy text that supplied answers to the problem of war. Isaac prays to a God who is a warrior, I thought ... Perhaps the religious worldview was a catalyst to war. I had been in Israel three days and already had enough of religious Judaism. Anti-aircraft guns in Tefillin. God returning the flood. I feared Isaac was involved in a phenomena similar to the cults of Christianity active at home. Perhaps the Yeshiva Isaac studied in was itself a cult that metamorphosed perfectly normal American students into black garbed, dark thinking religious fanatics. Yeshivas! Turning butterflies into religious caterpillars! An escape from the nuclear nightmare. Isaac sat and watched me think. I voiced my objections in one comment: "Isaac, you would use the Torah as a proof text of some divine reality and truth. I think I cannot believe. The text says that God is a warrior. How will you explain this text away? You look into scripture as a mirror of the divine. The Christians look into their mirror, and the Muslims and the Hindus. Are all these scriptures mirrors of the divine?" "So people believe," Isaac answered cryptically. "Well I don't believe," I said too loudly, surprised at my vehemence. "God is a warrior according to the Torah. Jesus says he has not come to bring peace, but the sword. Muhammad expands his religion and kills the unbeliever in the name of Allah. The Gita is one overextended war metaphor. The mirrors of scripture are flawed and cracked!" Isaac waited until I calmed down. I hoped he did not feel I was attacking him personally. He was silent. I had forgotten that some questions were appropriate for the Yeshiva and others for the garden. "Before we make any hasty judgments about reality reflected in the mirror of Torah," Isaac said, "let us look at the surface and then deeper into the looking glass." Isaac handed me a voweled text of Maimonide's Mishna Torah, Book Fourteen, The Book of Judges.

He read in a melodic sephardic Hebrew and shokeled to his melody: -Ha Melech Ha Messiach Atid Leamod U-Lachzer Malchut Bet David "King Messiah in the future is to reestablish and return the Davidic dynasty as it was in the past. And he will rebuild the Holy temple, gather the Jews of the diaspora and return the Judicial system in its entirety as it was in the past. Sacrifices will be offered, the Sabbatical year and Jubilee will be observed as will all the Commandments mentioned in the Torah." Each point I found objectionable. King Messiah? A Davidic dynasty? Sacrifices? This was no vision of a future golden age, but a dream to reestablish a vision of a people obviously struck in their past. Isaac attempted to answer my objections one by one. "The Messiah is considered by our tradition to be the ideal Jewish leader. His prototype is King David and his rule is modeled on David's rule." "Isaac," I said, "I have a problem with David as an ideal leader. He sends Uriah to death in battle so he can marry Bathsheba. His hands are so bloody from war that God forbids him to build the temple. This is our model?" "The Torah gives an essentially honest view of David's character and actions. He was a man of flesh and blood with the desires and vices of every man. David was a poet, a warrior and a man of outstanding leadership. Our sages went to great lengths, by Midrashic embellishment, to create a David we can emulate." I interrupted, "But Isaac, `King Messiah' a monarch? Really!" "In the Messianic times," Isaac said, "each person will be a monarch over their own soul and destiny." I wasn't sure what the hell he was talking about. Isaac continued, "The perpetuation of the Messiah's leadership by dynasty is something I have been giving a great deal of thought to. We learned from the Chassidic dynasties, that not every son emulates the virtues of the father. Dynasties become corrupt. Even the kings of Israel in ancient times were plagued with evil leaders." "Isaac," I said, interrupting his speculations, "this whole idea of the Messiah is appearing to me more and more as plain nonsense!" "Our messianic hopes and dreams are anything but nonsense. Without them we have no future as a people." "Then why is this a `looking back over our shoulders vision'? `Sanctify our days as of old.' If the old days were so good, why were we exiled?" "In the exile we learned how to perfect our past. The exile was in some ways a blessing. The Jewish vision was universalized. As we were integrated into societies to the farthest edges of the four corners of the earth, our faith was sent into diaspora to do battle with the idolatry of power. In the end the powerless

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern survived and let all the Toynbee's by damned." "Isaac do we perfect our past by reinstating the system of animal sacrifices of the Torah? You of all people could not consider these sacrifices a holy act, or prayer. The prayerbook describing the blood flowing and the blood sprinkling I find disgusting." "The text of Maimonides does not say animal sacrifices," Isaac explained. I looked back at the text. Isaac was right. "So what will be offered?" I asked. "Grains and incense." "So why mention the animal sacrifices at all in the Siddur?" "In the Messianic age," Isaac explained, "we will each rebuild the Temple that is our body. The body will be a pure and sanctified vessel to receive the divine presence. We will offer up the fat of slovenliness and indifference on the altar. The fat that chokes the heart and hardens the heart will be offered `as burnt offerings.'" All the laws I would have rejected reading on my own, Isaac gave meaning. Isaac read the next two Laws and explained that belief in the restoration of Israel and the coming of the Messiah were articles of faith in Judaism. Maimonides offered a number of proof texts to give this assertion a biblical basis, but I had a difficult time following the argument and was not convinced. "Don't let it enter your mind that the Messiah needs to perform signs and miracles, bring new things into being or resurrect the dead. That is not the reality of the situation. Rabbi Akiva, a great sage and teacher of the Mishna, was also the armour bearer of Bar Kochba. He believed Bar Kochba was the Messiah, as did all the sages of that generation, until Bar Kochba was killed in his iniquity. Since he was slain it was known that he was not the Messiah." "The essential principle is: Our Torah with all its laws is not subject to change. It's forever and for all eternity. It is not to be added to or taken away from. Whoever adds anything, or takes away anything, and strips the Mitzvot of their literal sense, is an impostor, a wicked man, and a heretic." "Maimonides' messiah was not a miracle worker. So be it. A man, a king, an ideal ruler. Perhaps even a rational philosopher like Maimonides himself." "Why the stress on the literal meaning of the Mitzvot?" I asked. "The New Covenant of Paul, contrary to Hosea's dream, abrogated the authority of the law. The Karaite heresy rejected the authority of the oral law. Maimonides stresses that the Jewish Messiah will not create a new covenant in opposition to an old covenant, but will come to fulfill the prophecies and promises made to the Jewish people in the Torah." Isaac read the next Halacha, a Messianic job description. I made a list of the qualifications for the "job" as Isaac read: "If there arise a king from the House of David, 1) who meditates on the Torah

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern 2) occupies himself with the Commandments 3) convinces Israel to walk in the way of the Torah 4) and fights the battles of the Lord it may be assumed he is the Messiah." "Now Maimonides is seeking the miraculous," I commented. "How so?" Isaac asked seriously. "If the Messiah convinces the diaspora Jews from Scarsdale or Beverly Hills to return to Torah and Israel that would be miraculous." Isaac laughed, then continued with the text. "If He does these things and succeeds; rebuilds the sanctuary on its site and gathers the dispersed of Israel, He is without a doubt the Messiah. He will prepare the whole world to serve Hashem as it is written `For then will I turn to the peoples a clear language that they can call upon the name of God to serve with one consent' (Zephania 3:9)." "The Messiah will be successful, so all who have failed have not been the Messiah." Isaac answered, "Do you sense anything missing in the text?" "No." "Perhaps it isn't apparent. Maimonides seems to exclude those that attempted to be the Messiah, but were not successful." "Seems?" "Yes," Isaac said. "The section was censored. We will study it separately after we finish the next chapter." I got up to stretch. I couldn't imagine how Isaac could sit so long. Perhaps it was his shokeling. But there was no way I was going to shokel. I sat back down. "Now," Isaac said, "we will learn the final chapter of the final section of Maimonides' fourteen volume Mishna Torah. He is answering a question in the following Halacha." "Do not let it enter your mind that in the time of the Messiah any of the laws of nature will be nullified or that any innovation will be introduced into the workings of creation. The world will be as it is now ... and that which Isaiah said `and the wolf will live with the lamb and the leopard will lie down with the kid' (Isa. 11:6) are to be understood figuratively, which means they, Israel, will live securely among the wicked of the nations who are compared to the wolves and leopards as it is written, `a wolf of the desert does spoil them, a leopard watches over their cities.'" I interrupted. "I remember the verse from Isaiah as the lion lying with the lamb, a little child leading them. Anyway, I don't see a problem, Isaac. Surely no one excepts an actual child to lead a lion and lamb that have actually lain together!" Isaac went to fetch a large unvoweled edition of the Mishna Torah for me. He explained: "Perhaps one could learn from the literal sense of the words of Isaiah that a radical change will take place in nature. That during the time of the Messiah, one visiting the biblical zoo could actually pass a cage with a lion and a lamb dwelling safely together."

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "I hope that during the time of the Messiah there will be no zoos." Isaac laughed. "So you expect radical changes?" Isaac was patient with my digression, but steered us back to the text. "Rabbi Abraham ben David of Posquires, The Ravad, objects in his critical scolia." (I often had no idea of the meaning of words Isaac used, but I was too embarrassed to run to a dictionary or to ask.) "The Ravad counters the Rambam's argument with a proof text from Leviticus, ànd I will cause evil beasts to cease from the Land.' In theory this is a strong objection because it is from the Torah and for Rambam, the proof text is from the prophets." Before me was the text of Maimonides surrounded by commentators, a medieval fortress protecting the text. I asked flippantly, "If evil beasts cease from the land, how will there be a lion to lay with the lamb?" Isaac did not answer so I asked him what he thought of the Ravad's objection. Isaac directed me to the bottom of the page and the comments of Rabbi Shemtov ben Abraham ibn Gaon, a 14th century Spanish mystic who supports the views of the Mishna Torah against the objections of the Ravad. He and his commentary are called Migdal Oz, the tower of strength. The Migdal Oz argues that biblical interpretation is multifaceted and divergent understanding of the same verse are to be expected. He confronts the Ravad's objection head on by offering a proof text from Genesis which our sages interpret metaphorically. The verse he brings to prove his point is ingenious and a fine example of Rabbinic humor. Genesis 37:20 on Joseph, àn evil beast has consumed him,' the Rabbis interpret to refer to Potiphar's wife," Isaac laughed loudly and heartily. The humor was lost on me. I imagined Potiphar's wife as seductive and not an evil beast, and I thought Joseph did not give in to his passions and was not devoured. I did not ask what the other commentators said, but understood that each line of each law opened a labyrinth of commentary. We returned to the text: "They will all return to the true religion and will neither steal nor destroy. They will earn a comfortable living in a peaceful manner as it is written, ànd the lion will eat straw like the ox,' (Isa 11:7). All similar expressions concerning the Messianic age are metaphors. In the days of the Messiah, the meaning of these metaphors and their allusions will be clear to all." When Isaac finished reading I asked, "What is the true religion? Rambam says the Messiah will explain the meaning of these metaphors and then explains them himself. What are his sources?" "The true religion is monotheism," Isaac answered. "So we don't believe everyone will be a Jew in the Messianic age." "Certainly not." "And what of the salvation of the non-Jew?" Isaac flipped back to the end of Chapter eight and the beginning of Chapter nine in the Mishna Torah and explained:

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "The non-Jew is expected to observe the `Seven Mitzvot of the Noahides' to be considered à righteous gentile' with a portion in the world to come." "What are the Seven?" "According to Maimonides, (9:1), six precepts were given to Adam, five prohibitions and the command for social justice by establishing courts. The five prohibitions include: idolatry, blasphemy, murder, adultery, and robbery." "And the seventh?" "This was added in the time of Noah: the prohibition of eating a limb from a living animal." "Why this commandment in Noah's time?" "Until Noah, we were vegetarians. During that generation a concession was made to our evil inclination and we were allowed meat, provided the animal suffered no pain in the process." "So a gentile who fulfills these seven precepts is considered righteous." "Yes." "The commands all seem reasonable to me. The basis of a moral society." "That's right." "And the Jew?" "The Jew has a system of 613 Mitzvot that Maimonides explains in fourteen volumes." "A separate arrangement with God." "Yes." "Two covenants. I wasn't aware of this Isaac." Then I voiced one of the many thoughts I should have kept to myself. "I think I'd rather be a non-Jew and work on the Seven." "But you are a Jew." "Yes, a member of the chosen people," I said, amazed at my cynicism. The ethnocentrism of the Alenu affected me deeply. "That's right," Isaac said, "chosen to fulfill a separate covenant. A covenant with a greater number of commandments and perhaps unique rewards from fulfilling those commandments. You should know," Isaac lectured, "that the tolerance of the Jews is in sharp contrast to the exclusiveness of the òne way' religions. They hang a sign on the gates of their heaven saying `No Jews Allowed.'" "But what about Alenu?" I protested. Isaac knew exactly what was bothering me. "Alenu we will study when we answer the question of God as warrior. It is an ancient prayer written by Joshua before the settling of the Holy Land. Joshua's decision on how to deal with the idolatry of the native inhabitants may astonish you. We will learn this ìnside' later. Remember, Alenu tells the Jews that they have their own covenant with God, and dreams of a time when all of humanity will be united in the belief in the one God." "Back to your question about sources. The source of every law in the Mishna Torah is the Jewish oral tradition. The Babylonian and

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Jerusalem Talmuds, Midrashim on the Five Books of Moses and Rabbinic opinion up to Maimonides' time." "Maimonides never gives his own opinion?" "No, only his analysis of whose view is to be followed in a Talmudic dispute or what worldview is to prevail in an ideological confrontation." "But certainly Maimonides' worldview will influence his legal decisions." "Absolutely." "Is one then allowed their own opinion?" "Yes, within a framework of tradition." "Back to your original question to me at the beginning," I said to Isaac, "the question Maimonides is answering is how one is to understand scripture." "Yes, this is a fundamental question of religion." "I am not satisfied with Maimonides' answer," I said, "that scripture speaks metaphorically. If so, how does the Torah differ from secular literature?" "A good question. Also you are correct that Maimonides is dealing with the crucial question of how one is to understand the meaning of religious language. But why do you assume that the sacred is not as open to interpretation as the secular in literature? The process of Midrash, of Jewish scriptural exegesis assumes the text may be read on many levels. We are taught by our sages, paradoxically, that a scriptural verse never goes beyond its simple apparent meaning and at the same time that some texts cannot be read literally. The `Song of Songs' for example, which in my opinion can be read literally, understanding it also operates on other levels of meaning also inherent in the text. A scriptural canvas is comparable to the charcoal etching that forms the basis of an oil painting. The lines of the drawing determine the form of the composition. Through Midrash depth and color are added to produce a masterpiece. Sometimes it is impossible to see the original charcoal lines. This process is also recapitulated in the exegesis of the law. The Torah teaches: `An eye for an eye A tooth for a tooth, etc.' Tradition focuses on the original text: literally:an eye under (or less than) an eye a tooth under (or less than) a tooth, etc. The verse itself points to its Midrashic meaning. If, God forbid, someone dismembers his neighbor by accident, strict justice demands that he suffer the same fate. The fundamentalist is left with a verse of cold stone. Scripture becomes dead, an idol. But the text demands to live:

The eye and something less than the eye, its value to the injured. The eye cannot be restored, but the value of the eye can be assessed and paid by the offender. Every verse of scripture is given meaning by Midrash. Midrash does not secularize the text, but makes it a living literature

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern that reflects the divine." Ever obstinate, I objected. "Must everything always go back to the book? Must I presume that God's will can be ascertained only by reading its words and verses? Why are we Jews so obsessed with this book, so insistent that it records the working of the divine mind? My universe is not so orderly and black and white that I can believe in the divinity of scripture. I am a lover of wisdom, a philosopher, who will seek the meaning of life, like the Greeks, through the working of my own speculative mind!" "Actually," Isaac explained patiently, "it is the view of Plato and the Greeks and not of the Rabbis that assumes a rational, fixed cosmos that can be read like a book." "The Jew views Torah and reality as Process. Our Torah's unique because of Midrash and the Oral Law. The Torah is in a process of continual renewal and creation and therefore can never be read from beginning to end." "The Law is the same. The printed text we are studying is symbolic of this process. Text and interpretation, commentary and super commentary, the Torah enfolds, a multifoliated rose. And scriptural interpretation is a garden of exegesis. The Torah in its entirety and each year the tree of life offers us new fruits. Torah is a most unique genre of literature." Isaac had an answer for every question. I was silent. He read the next Halacha in the Midrash Torah: "Our sages teach: The only difference between this world and the Messianic time is the deliverance from the servitude to foreign powers (Sanhedrin 91b)." "It appears from the literal meaning of the words of the prophets that the Messianic Era will begin with the War of Gog and Magog. Prior to that war a prophet will arise to set Israel straight, and prepare their hearts as it is written, `Behold I will send you Elijah the prophet' (Mal. 3:23), Elijah will come ... to bring Peace as it is written, `and he shall turn the hearts of the father to the children and the hearts of the children to the fathers. "The proof text doesn't seem to fit the argument," I said. "What does the return of the heart of the children to the parents and the hearts of the parents to the children have to do with peace?" "In Hebrew this concept is called Shalom Bayit, Peace in the home." "So?" "Peace in the home is the basis of peace between the nations." "I still don't see the connection." "Where does the process of bringing peace into the world begin?" I wasn't sure where I was being led, and shrugged. "It begins in the heart. Through atonement with God. We join our mate and again become Adam, and our children are formed in the image of God. If we perfect our relationship with our children and live together in Shalom, in peace and perfection, then we create people who are ready to live in peace with their neighbors and neighbors who live in peace with one another. The process of

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern bringing peace on earth begins with each individual finding peace in his own heart. The process begins with ourselves. When we `save' ourselves we save a world, and this influences every sphere of life outside our own." "Is this your own mystical theory?" I asked. "No, it is common to all spiritual systems." I again shrugged. Isaac explained further, in a voice only he and I could hear: "My old bible from Laguna, the King James version, stained with the salt from the ocean and my tears, lists `and he shall turn the hearts of the fathers to the children and the children to the fathers' as the last verse of the `old' testament." The father., then begins the `New' testament: The child. In the messianic time," Isaac still whispered, "the father and child will be reconciled in peace." I was not sure I understood Isaac's conceptual model of peace and was certainly baffled by this last statement. I did not comment and returned to the safer domain of the text: "Israel is not under the servitude to foreign powers. Does this mean the Messianic age began in 1948 with the inauguration of the Jewish state?" "One cannot extrapolate the law from one Halacha," Isaac explained. "Also, Israel means more than this small state in the Middle East. Jews still live under foreign servitude. The Soviet Pharaohs refuse to let their Jews go. Israel will no longer be under the servitude of foreign powers when every Jew in the world lives in Israel." "You really believe," I said, "that some day all the Jews of the world will live in Israel?" "Yes, the United States of Israel." Isaac returned to the text: "Among our sages, some say the coming of Elijah will precede the advent of the Messiah. But all of these matters and their details, no person can know until they happen. The meaning of the prophets is closed to us. The Rabbis have no reliable traditions in these matters, except the apparent meaning of the verses. That is why the Rebbis disagree on them. Anyway, the sequence of these events and their details are not dogma." "Nobody should occupy their time with these legendary themes or Midrashic statements on this or similar topics. They are not essential because they lead neither to the fear nor love of God." "Also, do not calculate the end of days. Our sages teach `Blasted be those who consider (calculate) the End.' One should wait (for the Messiah's coming), accepting this as an article of faith." "Isaac," I said, "do the apparent meanings of the verses imply an Armageddon, a final battle between Gog and Magog?" "Yes, some do." "Do you agree that we should not concern ourselves with these matters?"

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "No. These themes are primary for our faith." "Why is Maimonides' stance so vehement and extreme?" "In Israel, Messianic speculation has led only to aborted Messianic hopes. Each Messiah, a pretender. Tragedy walked hand in hand with each Messianic failure. We will come back to this theme." Isaac summarized Halacha Three since it spoke of a technicality, the Messiah's determination of the pedigree of each Jew. "Today we are not sure who is a Priest, Levite or Israel, and these will be clarified by the Messiah through the Holy Spirit." I had enough of the "we" from Isaac. Especially on this theme of family descent. I was direct. "How can you say "we" Isaac? You are a Christian!" "I am a Jew," Isaac answered back just as directly. "What?" "I am a Jew. My mother's mother was a Jew. According to our tradition I am a Jew." "How do you know?" "I have looked into the matter carefully." "But your father is a Christian." "Yes, and he will always consider me a Christian, and his heart will turn towards mine, and mine towards his, in the time of Sheloh,(Sealah) the time of Shalom." Embarrassed and amazed I listened intently as Isaac read the next Halacha "The sages and prophets did not long for the Messianic era so that Israel would rule the world or oppress her oppressors, or to be praised by the nations or to eat, drink and be merry. Rather they longed that Israel be free to study the law and its wisdom, without oppression, and therefore be worthy of life in the world to come." "We'll all be Yeshiva students then," I said jokingly. "Even you," said Isaac. Isaac then read the last Halach, the Arete of Maimonides fourteen volume vision of Jewish life. "And in that time there will not be famine or war, jealously or strife. That which is good will hold sway, and prosperity will be within the reach of everyone." "The one preoccupation of the world will be to know God. Therefore, the Israelites will be exceedingly wise, comprehending that which was unfathomable, attaining a comprehension of their creator to the limits of the human mind as it is written `For the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea,' (Is. 11:9)." "What is the meaning of the Juxtaposition of famine and war?" I asked. "Borrowing a folk etymology from a Chassidic master, we notice that bread is contained within the Hebrew word or war. The two remaining letters,-spell, what. What of the poor who do not have their daily bread? In the realm of our world we know that economic factors have been a major cause of many of the world's

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern wars. Economic justice and world peace must be considered together." "Maimonides says there will not be famine. What of poverty?" "An excellent question," Isaac said. "The Torah says the poor will never cease from the land. We will have food in abundance and adequate shelter, but some shall be poor. Unsatisfied with their portion they will always be unsatisfied. They may acquire treasures and unlimited material possessions, yet they will be poor." "All the people of the world will have enough to eat?" "Yes. In fact, as long as one child in one ghetto anywhere in the world is crying from lack of food, know that our world is still unredeemed." I decided I was hungry and we went out of Isaac's room for some food.

*****

We entered the room and I asked, "Isaac, what about jealousy and strife. Is it connected to the end of starvation and war in the days of the Messiah?" Isaac smiled. He would not say such a thing but I felt he was pleased I had put something spiritual before food. Perhaps there was some hope for me. "Famine and war are sometimes out of the domain of the individual. The charity of the richest man cannot feed all the hungry. The vision of Shalom of a devout peace lover does not necessarily bring peace on earth. Jealousy and strife however, are wholly controllable by the individual. If I do not covet what is yours, jealousy is controlled. If I am tranquil with my God, and love myself, then I will love my neighbor as myself. This level of bringing the Messiah is attainable by every individual." "Then why doesn't Maimonides list the absence of jealousy and strife first, and then the absence of famine and war?" I asked. Isaac stared at me and shook his head. Even he had not thought of this question. "Perhaps," Isaac offered, "many individuals will learn not to be jealous and not to strive only after the absence of famine and war. In the Messianic age, the individual can be actualized in an unredeemed community, but a redeemed community helps actualize the individual." Isaac was absorbed in thought and I reviewed in my mind all that he had taught me. On the whole I felt Maimonides' and Judaism's visions of the Messianic times were a well of thought and yearning for a better world. A blueprint for a New Age. Now I knew `what' the Jewish vision about the Messiah was, but I wondered about the `how,' the implementation of these lofty ideas. I asked Isaac. "It's fine to dream of a famine-less world. How do we achieve this? In India and China there are millions of mouths to feed

Mao Did

"Mao did," Isaac said. Isaac was amused by my shocked reaction. "I'm sorry if I upset your Southern Californian sensibilities," Isaac said. "But Mao's form of communism worked well to remedy exactly the problem you raise. Also, famine will be conquered when we drop all our `ism' thinking and realize that we live on one world which is a global village that will survive only through cooperation." "We are not American and Russian, European and Asian, but one in God and one in Sheloh." "Sure Isaac," I said, "the Communist hordes are going to cooperate with the Western democracies in the name of God." "In the time of the Messiah," Isaac said, "God and those who worship in the name of God and the atheists, will be one."

Isaiah's Dream

"Maimonides bases much of his Messianic speculation on Isaiah." "Why Isaiah?" I asked. "Isaiah's visions are essential to understand the character of the Messiah and the Messiah's role in the redemption of Israel and the nations. We have spoken of Isaiah's Zionism. Isaiah's Messiah is a wonder. A counselor and Mighty Judge, leader of the everlasting, and Prince of Peace. Born of the Earth, child of God." "Will this Messiah be our Saviour?" "No. The Messiah, the ideal leader, is a teacher." "A human like you and I?" "Exactly." "Then who will redeem us," I asked, confused, not really believing anyway, "If not the Messiah?" "We will each redeem ourselves," Isaac taught. "Each individual is the Messiah, in potential, in the sphere of one's own personal world." "Is this Isaiah's teaching?" "No. It's Chassidic." "What of Emmanuel?" I asked. "Isaiah says Emmanuel is the name of, or rather, one of the titles of the Messiah." (7:14) "I remember this as a proof text for Christianity," I said, thinking of one of my prayer sessions with Grove. "Yes," Isaac said, "Isaiah is also the favorite prophet in

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Christianity and central to their Messianic speculations. The New Testament quotes Isaiah more than any other Hebrew prophet." "Emmanuel, according to Christian tradition, will be born of a virgin when even God grows weary of the exile, `he will give a sign.'"

Isaac read from his King James Version: "Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son and shall call his name Emmanuel." I checked the Hebrew and protested. "Isaac, this is an outright mistranslation. The text does not say `virgin,' but `Alma.' A virgin is a Betulah. Doesn't Alma mean `young woman'?" "Yes," Isaac agreed, "probably." "Why the mistranslation?" "The text was translated to conform to church doctrine." I reread the Emmanuel passages. Isaac prepared whole wheat crackers with butter and honey.

*****

Theophilos, surely you can sense the ironies of our study sessions. I still had not put the picture together.

*****

Our discussion on Isaiah prompted a more panoramic question: "Is it possible to speak about a prophetic worldview on the Messianic times?" "Not exactly," Isaac answered. "Each prophet's vision is expressed in his own individual idiom and image. Some visions overlap, but each prophet must be examined singularly to establish their Messianic dream." "Can you give a theme common to all?" I asked. "Yes, that idolatry is the negation of Godliness, and the greatest idolatry is the idolatry of power. In the end, God's judgment will be severe on those who live by the sword. This, I believe, is the essence of prophetic eschatology." "I do not know the word, Isaac." I admitted. "In Hebrew, aharit hayamin, the final things at the end of days." "And what is Isaiah's, and the other prophets' eschatology?" I asked. "Isaiah, as we saw views the Messiah as the Prince of Peace, who

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern awakens Zion and publishes his teaching of Peace in a time when God will comfort the people. Isaiah's view of the character of the Messiah is as a suffering servant, despised and rejected. A Messiah of sorrows, acquainted with grief, oppressed and afflicted, he submits to being struck down. Led like a sheep to the slaughter, he opens not his mouth." Isaac was silent then, entranced. Only when he returned from his journey did he continue. "Jeremiah reminds us that it is God, not the Messiah, who is our Redeemer." "Ezekiel's metaphysical blueprint of the architectural dimensions of the New Jerusalem is understandable only through the Kabbalah."

*****

Actually, Theophilos, Isaac's poetry gives a clear interpretation of Ezekiel's dream of the New Jerusalem. See the end of Final Lecture, in the Psalm section of Final Testament.

*****

"Hosea speaks of a time when the Jews will be recognized as `sons of the living God.' May it come to pass speedily in our days. Then," Isaac paraphrased turning to the Hebrew, `Both sword and weapon of war will be broken from the earth so that all life may lay down without fear." (2:18) "Nahum, Zephania, Habbakuk, Malachi, and Joel do not mention the Messiah directly as an individual. Each of their visions must be studied with great care. Joel, for example, is often enigmatic. His vision seems to me to be closest to the spirit of the new state of Israel. The old men of Zion dreamed dreams, but the young men see visions, most often of war. This they proclaim, following Joel:"

`Sanctify war awaken the warriors let all the men of war draw near.

Beat your plowshares into swords and your pruning hooks into spears Let the weak say `I am strong.'" (3:9-12)

"So Israel follows Joel and forgets Isaiah," I said. "I pray this will not happen," Isaac answered.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "You know," I said to Isaac, "since coming to Israel I have experience only spiritual trails. Chassidim who are joyless, spiritual imperialists, and worse. Yeshiva students who speak of destroying Islam's holy shrines so the third temple may be rebuilt. Dark harlots. I imagined I was coming home to my land and my people, and all I find are messianic pretensions. Everyone in Israel is a messiah, or at least a prophet, yet all of their visions are mundane. I'm sorry, Isaac. I'm really tired of all this Messiah and redemption stuff. What am I to do with this unredeemed secular state? People on the street tell me, `I am an Israeli, not a Jew.' What am I to do?" "You yourself have suggested the solution," Isaac said. I shrugged off any possibility of understanding an answer. Isaac reminded me: "The Messianic must come to redeem the Mundane." "Sophomoric balderdash," I said without thinking. Isaac looked hurt and I apologized. "I'm sorry Isaac. I'm afraid I have little hope and no faith."

Censored

Thinking of all the failed Messiahs, I asked Isaac about the missing censored passage in the Mishna Torah. Isaac removed an old leather bound copy of the Mishna Torah from the shelves of the library in his room. The pages were yellow and faded. The text was ancient, without the commentaries that framed the text we had been studying. At the end of chapter eleven, in the uncensored version, the text continued: "But if he is not successful to this point, or is murdered, it is certain that he is not the Messiah promised by the Torah. He is similar to all the kings of the Davidic dynasty who were Shalem (perfected) and worthy, but who died when God raised then (to power) to test the community as it is written: `and some of them of wisdom shall fail, to test them, and to purify and to make them white, even to the time of the end, because it is yet for the appointed time.' Also of Jesus the Nazarite, who imagined that he was the Messiah, but was put to death by the court, Daniel has prophetized, as it is written: `And the children of the violent among your people shall exalt themselves up, to fulfill the vision, but they shall stumble.'" "And has there ever been a greater stumbling than this?" "All the prophets say the Messiah will save the Jews from the exile, gather her dispersed, and affirm the Mitzvot. But Jesus caused Israel to be murdered by the sword, to be dispersed and denigrated, changing the Torah, leading the world to error and to serve other Gods." "But the thoughts of the creator of the universe are unfathomable, for out ways are not God's ways, neither are our thoughts God's

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern thoughts. All these things relating to Jesus the Nazarite and the Ishmaelite who came after him served only to direct us towards King Messiah and to establish a world dedicated to the worship of the one God as it is written.:" "For then I will turn to the people a pure language that they may all call upon the name of the Lord to serve with one consent." (Zephania 3:9) "Success," I interrupted. "The Messiah must be a success." I loathed the word. To me it summed up the quest for prestige, power, money, and fame that motivated western man to acquisition and to bow to the idol Mammon. My father had used the word often during my high school years. Then I dreamed and devoured novels, sucking on a pipe in my hazed room. "Pipe smokers aren't motivated," my father said. "How do you ever expect to be a success?" Isaac did not share my aversion or prejudice towards success. "Yes, the Messiah must fulfill the diving mission. The Messiah must be a success." "No second chances, no second comings?" I asked. Isaac did not answer. "Jesus then was not the Messiah because he did not fulfill his mission?" "According to Maimonides, for this and other reasons listed." "Isn’t it a bit harsh to call Christians `children of the violent?" I said. "I imagine Jesus was a teacher of peace, perhaps even too pacifistic. If someone strikes me in the face, I will strike them back, immediately." "Christianity brought not peace but the sword," Isaac answered. "But Isaac," I protested, "certainly Jesus is not responsible for the corruption of his teachings by the church." "Only by his fruit is he known," Isaac answered. I disagreed with Isaac, but went on to another question. "Maimonides says that Muhammad and Islam only served to clear the way for Messiah, but won't even call Muhammad by name, referring to him as `the Ishmaelite.'" Isaac explained. "Maimonides was personally persecuted in Spain when the fanatic Islamic sect called Almohades ascended to power and exiled him from his homeland. In Maimonides' experience, the natives of Islam were also `children of the violent.'" I sidetracked Isaac again. "Does Islam believe in a Messiah?" "Yes." "The same Messiah the Jews are waiting for?" "That is not an easy question. The Shi'a sect of Islam, which splits into an even larger number of sects including the Imamites or Twelvers, believe that Muhammad Al Mahdi, the 12th Imam, disappeared from the world around the year 880. His second coming as Mahdi (the guided one) will see the restoration of justice and righteousness to the world. Influenced by Christian and perhaps Jewish messianic hopes, Islam evolved its own idea of a Messiah. Later Sunni tradition claims that the Mahdi is Jesus who will

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern return and slay the antichrist. The great historian of Islam, Ibn Khaldun, doubts the veracity of this tradition." I really didn't have enough background in Islamic history to completely follow this. I asked, "What does Islam say concerning the end of days?" "Islam focuses on the Day of Judgment, a day of reckoning, an `overwhelming day.' The Ka'ba, the holy stone of Islam in Mecca, according to an Islamic Midrash, comes to visit the Temple Mount. All souls walk over a bridge that arches from the Mt. of Olives to the Temple Mount. This bridge is narrower than a hair, sharper than a sword, and darker than night. The angel of death, Israfil, sounds the Shofar (ram's horn) three times. The assembled are judged and the righteous move towards hell (on the left)." "How will Islam relate to the Jewish Midrash?" I asked. "Although not accepted as their redeemer, the Messiah of the Jews will be recognized as the sovereign of the nation of Israel." "And will Islam then grant that Israel has spiritual title to the land?" "That is an excellent and complicated question. On the whole Islam demands the submission of the entire world to its vision of Islamic rule. `Islam rules and is not ruled." However, sources can be found that view the Holy Land as God's gift to the Jews. The famous commentator to the Qur'aan Al-ZamakShari (1074-1144) on Sura V (4:22-23) explains that Allah (God) has assigned the Holy Land to the Jews. But you will not hear this quoted much be Orthodox Islamic theologians today." "It certainly would be helpful to the peace process if Islam recognized Israel's right to exist." "Yes, it would." I had only sketchy survey knowledge of Islam. I learned in university that the status of the Jews in the Islamic nations in which they lived was, on the whole, better than under Christendom. Jews were flourishing in Spain during their Golden Age while still being persecuted by their Christian overlords in Europe. I shared this with Isaac. "However," Isaac added, "Jews were also second class citizens under Islamic rule, similar to the status of Blacks in Alabama in the 50's and 60's. With all this, they were, on the whole, safer under Islamic rule than under Christian rule." Isaac wanted to go back "inside." He chanted the end of the censored Halacha. "The idea of the Messiah, the Torah, and Commandments have spread even to the farthest islands of the earth and to many nations uncircumcised of heart. They discuss these topics and the laws of Torah. They say `These laws w4were true but are no longer relevant to the present generation...' But when the true Messiah comes and succeeds, is exalted and acknowledged, they will immediately concede that they have inherited nothing but lies from their leaders, that their prophets and forefathers led them astray." "Isaac," I said, "Maimonides' views are as unfathomable to me as

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern God's designs are to Maimonide. Do you agree that the true Messiah will reveal that all the spiritual teachings of Christianity and Islam are lies? I see why this was censored. Maimonides is peddling inflammatory half-truths." "I see this Halacha in a different light," Isaac said. "The Rambam gives our persecutors a positive role in history, the preparation of the world for true monotheism and a genuine acceptance of the Torah. Considering the incestuous rape and murder of Jews by her daughter religions, the Rambam's views may be considered generous. Theologically, Rambam had no choice but to explain the unfathomable successes of Christianity and Islam as part of the divine plan, as God's will manifest in history." "So Maimonides is giving us a philosophy of history to explain Jewish powerlessness?" I asked. "Actually, Maimonides, the Rambam had no real conception of what we call history. He speaks as a philosopher. If we agree that the essence of the Torah's teachings is the negation of idolatry and specifically the idolatry of power, and that the Christian nations and Islamic nations bowed deeply to this idol of power, then the Rambam's view is clear. I don't believe the Rambam feels the Christian and Muslim must completely reject their traditions. They must however, be true to their Torah covenant to the one God as manifest in the Noahide Code." I thought of Jewish powerlessness in the diaspora. Always at the mercy of the whims of her host nation, Israel had to humbly submit to the rule of people who considered her despised and rejected. Yet we survived. And our oppressors are gone. And the greatest irony might be that Israel with power, an army, and an ideology of nationalism, might now go the way of her oppressors. I could imagine the Messiah coming to remind the Jewish people of the lesson of her dispersion, that not by might and not by power, but by the spirit alone, the Jews survived.

Pretenders

Isaac spoke of the actual Messianic pretenders in history. He mentioned the Messiah in Crete in the fifth century and Bar Kochba, and I shook my head in acknowledgement. The Rebbe Raddi Satman had explained these two pretenders to me. Isaac began, "A complete overview of all of the historical ramifications of all of the messianic pretenders in history could fill a library. I'll tell you about only a few." "During the time of Maimonides, about 1172, a Messiah appeared in the Yemen. The man did not fulfill Maimonides' job description and Maimonides considered this messiah a madman." "The persecutions of the Crusaders and fanatical element in Islam helped birth many pretenders. The Rambam also comments on a certain Ibn Aryeh who dreamed and then believed himself to be the Messiah. He was beaten and excommunicated. Around the same time,

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern a young female Messiah appeared in Baghdad. The Cairo Geniza has a fragment that attests to her dream on the 25th of Ellul, 1120. The daughter of Joseph the physician, she saw and heard Elijah the prophet tell her that the redemption was to begin. The Caliph was not at all pleased with her pretensions. The Jews were imprisoned and the physician's daughter was taken out to be publicly burned as a witch. Then Elijah miraculously appeared to the Caliph, according to historical legend, saving the Jews and the physician's daughter." Isaac gave me a number of books to read in Hebrew and English and then continued his summary: "The Holy Kabbalist Abraham Abulafia reached a level of prophetic inspiration and monumental Chutzpa in the 13th century. In 1280 Abulafia went to Rome to convince Pope Nicholass III to open his heart to the Jews. Nicholas promptly condemned Rabbi Abulafia to death. The Pope died first and the Rabbi was released from prison. In 1290 Abulafic announced the advent of the Messianic era. The Jews prepared to leave for the Land of Israel, but the rabbinic authorities proclaimed the Rabbi a charlatan." "Each century had its lineup of Messiahs. In the 16th, David Reuveni was received by the Pope, who believed his story that a powerful Jewish kingdom existed which could join forces with Christiandom to attack Muslims. The Pope received Reuveni as an ambassador and even gave him letters of recommendation to the king of Portugal. The Jews also believed in Reuveni's imaginary kingdom and army. In the end Reuveni could not convince the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, Charles V., to join forces to defeat the Turks. His fate is not known. He may have been burned at the stake."

Protestant Messiah

"The 16th century also saw the pretensions of a man the Jews did not see as messiah, but hoped would be a savior of sorts - Martin Luther." "Luther wrote in 1523 that `Jesus Christ was born a Jew.' He asked Christians to stop persecuting the Jews. The Jews were so taken aback; they thought that perhaps the Messianic Era had arrived. Luther, however, expected the Jews to react to his kindness by conversion. When they did not, he published his notorious `Against the Jews and Their Lies.' Luther became a classic, rabid Jew hater." "The Jews' disappointment in Luther was dramatically overshadowed in the 17th century with the advent of Shabbati Zvi. Mystics among the Christians and Jews awaited the Messiah. On the ninth day of the Hebrew month Av, the day tradition says the Messiah will be born, Shabbati Zvi came into this world. Shabbati was a handsome charismatic man with a melodious voice. He was born to lead. In 1648 he proclaimed himself Messianic King of Israel."

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Undaunted by the excommunication of his own community, Shabbati Zvi had a wedding canopy erected and took the Holy Torah as his bride. Zvi found a patron in Raphael Chelabi who sent Zvi to Israel to distribute funds. To the Rabbi's of Jerusalem, Shabbati became a savior of sorts, since the Torah scholars in Israel were starving." "Shabbati then met Nathan of Gaza, who launched his Messianic career. Professor Scholem explains that Shabbati Zvi was not really taken seriously until Nathan promoted him." "Nathan was known in Israel as somewhat of a holy man and prophet. Shabbati went to Nathan, who was renowned as a physician of the soul, to be cured of his manic depression. Nathan convinced Shabbati that he was the Messiah. Without Nathan's conviction, Shabbati may have remained only a dreamer." "Meanwhile in Poland, one Nehamia the Cohen proclaimed himself a prophet of the Messiah. Shabbati Zvi summoned Nehamia to a fortress at Abydus where he had been imprisoned by the Turks for his Messianic claims. Nehamia came to Shabbati and announced that Shabbati was certainly not the Messiah. Nehamia may have tried to convince Zvi that he was the Messiah, the son of David. Then Zvi could claim to be Messiah the son of Joseph." "Rambam doesn't mention the Messiah son of Joseph," I said. "The Messiah son of Joseph, is a warrior Messiah," Isaac answered. "I guess the two charlatans' egos got in the way of a two-seated throne," I said. "Perhaps," said Isaac. He continued. "The followers of Zvi were intolerant of Nehamia the pretender, and threatened his life. Nehamia went to the Sultan and advised the Turks to take Zvi to the Sultan. The Jewish Messiah who dreamed of sitting on the sultan's throne as king of kings was now put to the test. Aware of his powerlessness, when offered a choice between Islam and the sword, Zvi opted for a petty office in the Sultan's court." "This should have put an end to the Messiahship of Shabbati Zvi. Loyal followers refused to return to their senses and admit defeat. Nathan announced that Zvi's apostasy was a deep kabbalistic mystery. The paradox of an apostate Messiah formed the basis of a new theology. Eventually a sect known as the Donmeh within Islam waited for the second coming of Shabbati Zvi." "An anthropologist would see Zvi-ism as a crisis cult," I said. Isaac asked me to explain the term. "A crisis cult is a religious phenomenon that originate with visions of a new way of life by individuals under extreme stress. During these times of great cultural crisis the community looks for a hero to set the world right. The Jews have certainly known extreme stress and persecution. I see each crisis persecution. I see each crisis produces another Messianic pretender," I said. Isaac continued. "Around 1740 one Jacob Frank announced in Poland, strange Sabbetian doctrines with some twists of his own. Frank claimed to be the reincarnation of Shabbati. Frank took Sabbetian doctrines

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern to their limits. The world had not been redeemed through good, so he and his followers would bring redemption through evil. Desire would be defeated by giving in to every temptation. Wild orgies became part of worship. Traditional religious morality was turned on its head." "Was this revolt against traditional religion limited to Jews?" "No," Isaac answered. "Within Christianity, Messianic expectations were also high. The Ranters, like Shabbati, taught freedom from conventional morality. They also sought redemption through evil. They differed by being anti-intellectual and anti-Bible. Other sects attempted to use scripture as the rationale for diversions from tradition. Free spiritism is not a phenomenon of the 60's only," Isaac said. I thought of the flower children at Berkeley who sincerely preached their simple doctrine of "Make Love Not War," and of the Hollywood Messiah, Charles Manson. "Free spiritism taught that the only sin was to disobey the leader. Manson was a terrible reincarnation of the worst elements of Free Spiritism and Frankism." "These Messianic pretenders are dangerous men," I said. "Yes," Isaac answered, "and not only men." I wore one of my puzzled looks. Isaac explained. "The Messianic impulse moves towards revolt against the banalities and evils of the status quo. Religious ethnocentrism is revolted against by Jews attempting to assimilate the doctrines of Islam and Christianity into their religious world views. Christians study the kabbalah and search for Judaic insights to illuminate their spiritual path." "The entire social structure is called into question and tested by Messianic movements. John Noyes envisioned a community where every man was wedded to every woman and every woman to every man. After the children were weaned they were placed in a common nursery. Every adult was mother or father to every child, one family." "Especially in the past few centuries Messianism and sexuality have been coupled both in theory and practice. Baruchia Russo preached a New Messianic Torah where the 26 transgressions, punishable by keritot, the utter extension of the offender's soul, were turned into Positive Commandments. Adultery, incest, even bestiality were practiced. Russo unleashed the sexual beast. Russo preached the divinity of Shabbati and later his followers made Russo divine."

Messianic Feminism

"Before women had feminism as a way to revolt against their oppression and domination by men, they discovered Messianism. The religious authorities and traditions denied women access to being spiritual leaders of local communities. But no one could deny a

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern woman filled with the holy spirit or a woman prophet. Even the most chauvinistic of men might be persuaded that the Messiah's mother would be a woman." "Margaret Peter, born on Christmas day, believed herself destined to do battle against the Devil. She offered herself up as the final sacrifice so Satan would be defeated. She even used hammer and spikes to nail herself to a cross!" "In the 18th century, Joanna Southcott believed herself to be pregnant with the Messiah. In the Third Book of Wonders th Southcottians teach: `This year in the 65th year of thy age thou shall have a son by the power of the most high." The Southcottians sing: Shiloh to our faith is given on this bright auspicious morn Shiloh choicest gift of heaven For a faithless world is born Hail Joanna! Favored mortal Chosen maid of heaven's love Thou canst ope the blessed portal of the joyful seats above." "Who is or what is Shiloh?" I asked. "Shiloh, properly pronounced She-low, is the expected godchild," Isaac answered. "Is this a fictional fabrication by the Southcottians?" I asked. "No, not actually. It is an extension of the traditional belief that the name of the Messiah is Shiloh." "I am not familiar with this name," I confessed. Isaac was overwhelming me with his knowledge of Messianic pretenders. I wondered about the fate of Joanna and asked Isaac. "Joanna died while pregnant. Her followers demanded an autopsy to find Shiloh. Joanna was examined and no Messiah was found. The Southcottians believed Shiloh had been taken to heaven." I asked about Shiloh in Torah. Isaac rushed around the room and grabbed two copies of Genesis and various commentators. We first looked at the test (Gen. 49:10) in the Mikrot Gedolot. Isaac again explained the set up of the text. To the left of the text, Onkelos and other ancient Aramaic translations. Then Rashi, Nachmanides Ibn Ezra the Sephorno and Rashbam. "Jewish textual exegesis is, as you know, always process," Isaac said. We read the text. The scepter shall not depart from Judah Nor the ruler's staff from between his feet As long as men come to Sheloh (Shiloh) And unto Him shall the obedience of the people be. "This is one translation," Isaac explained. "The verse needs to be retranslated according to each commentator. The meaning of the word

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern is cryptic in the extreme. Its meaning has not yet been linguistically clarified." "Where did Joanna get her idea to call the child Shiloh?" "Christianity assumes that Shiloh is a name of the founder of their religion." They read: The scepter shall not depart from Judah Nor the ruler's staff from between his feet Until Shiloh (Jesus) comes And unto Him shall the obedience of the people be. "Does Jewish tradition recognize Sheloh as the name of the Messiah?" "According to one opinion in the gemara in Sanhedrin, Shiloh is the Messiah's name." "What about the biblical Shiloh north of Jerusalem?" "I believe the actual place of Sheloh is part of the meaning of the verse. Sheloh is a place and the name of the Messiah, or more accurately, a title of the Messiah. When the Messiah comes, sovereignty will be Shel-oh, (the Messiah's), and all will assemble at Sheloh to greet their long awaited leader. The Messiah, Sheloh, will announce a teaching of Peace from Sheloh." "Both Christians and Jews await a Messiah called Sheloh?" I asked. "Yes." I remembered reading in a survey course in Jewish Literature, a disputation between Christians and Jews on "Shiloh." Isaac explained. "In the 13th century a renegade apostate Jew named Pablo Christiani challenged the great Ramban, Nachmanides, to a debate on the Messiah. The Christians argued that the Messiah had appeared, was human and divine, and that the Mitzvot of Judaism were no longer binding. Christiani and his peers quoted our Sheloh verse as a proof text in favor of the Christian view. Ramban explained the text differently, attempting to prove the humanness and non-divinity of the Messiah." "How did Ramban understand Sheloh?" "Sheloh is the `son' of David who will have the obedience of the nations of the world." "Ramban argued for the purely human origins of Jesus by showing that Shiloh also means `afterbirth,' a Messiah born naturally, of an earthly mother and father." Isaac was silent a few moments and he smiled a deep contented smile. His fingers danced over the commentary on the bottom of the page. Isaac knew I wanted him to share his insight. "The Sephorna teaches," I stopped Isaac. "Please forgive me. Obadiah ben Jacob Sephorno, the Renaissance Physician who usually seeks the simple meaning of a text. He says on Sheloh: "know that the expression Sheloh is from the root which means quester or seeker, and the root which teaches peace." "Sheloh means those who seek and quest for peace and tranquility,

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern and a Messiah to show us the way to Sheloh and Sealah. " I was more than ready to end our Messianic speculations, but thought of another question. I expressed my question as a statement, actually a challenge. "I don't believe I can accept the idea of the Messiah as a person. This idea leads the Jews into too many dead-ended, blind alleys." "Tradition teaches belief or acknowledgement of the coming of the Messiah as a fundamental of our faith. Reformers and radical Zionists did not want the Messiah to come. Many completely rejected the idea. Ironically the Zionists ultimately put their faith in our most recent Messianic pretender." "Who is that?" "Theodore Herzel." "What?" I could not believe what I was hearing from my friend. Isaac was not concern with my incredulity. "The Messiah is a person," Isaac said. "Not only an idea or an essence, but a person." "In the first blessing of our divine service, in the Shmoneh Esray, the reformers changed `God brings a redeemer' to `God brings redemption.'" "That sounds reasonable to me," I said. "The difference in the Hebrew is slight, an exchange of two letters, Yet the difference is a difference of one God, whom they deny by rejecting the doctrine of the personal Messiah." I did not care for Isaac's numerical Kabballistic Midrash. Gematria, the science of interpreting Torah according to the numerical value of the Hebrew letters, could prove anything. "Isaac, you yourself must admit that the idea of a personal Messiah is the most abused in history." Isaac did not answer, but reached for a book by Franz Rosenzweig. "In a note to a poem by Yehuda Halevi, Rosenzweig says: (I did not admit I did not know who Rosenzweig was. Halevi's sublime poetry I had studied in a Hebrew literature class.) `The hope of the coming of the Messiah ... would be meaningless ... a mere idea in the philosophical sense, empty babble, if the appearance of a false messiah did not render it reality and unreality ...’ The false messiah is an old as the hope for the true Messiah ... the changing form of this changeless hope." I was unconvinced. "When will your Messiah come?" I asked. "The Midrash on Tehillim (Psalms)," Isaac said, "tells when." "God says `Everything depends on you. Just as the Rose grows with its heart towards heaven, so when you return to me and turn your heart heavenward, I will cause your redeemer to appear.'" Isaac recited the Midrash so sweetly and with such sincerity, I even found myself wanting to believe.

Dear Theophilos, My discussions on the Messiah left me weary. I could not believe with perfect faith in His coming, but I did believe in my

Hebrew University

I do not remember much about the courses I took at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. Nothing memorable or spectacular was taught in most of the junior year abroad classes. I do remember seeing "The Jazz Singer" with Al Jolson, and how rudely we Americans booed an Israeli filmmaker off the stage in the stage in the theater room when he began, in Hebrew, an in-depth analysis of the film. A critic or art historian's analysis of an event most often does not measure up to the event itself. We wanted to see and experience Jolsen as the Jazz Singer and resented the critic as a mediator. I did not realize at the time how deeply disillusioned I was with the entire format of undergraduate education. Especially survey courses in the humanities. We regurgitated vast quantities of information in exams that had been delivered in dull monotones by equally bored graduate assistants or assistant professors. When they did teach, the full professors were often the greatest pedants. I took courses in Judaica. More precisely, the courses were about Judaism. I wanted to learn Judaism. We were taught about the Bible, the Torah, so I sat in the library and read The Torah. I read the Five Books of Moses, and Deuteronomy twice, as Michener recommends in The Source. The Book of Joshua stopped my reading abruptly. The wars against the native inhabitants during the conquest were violent in the extreme. Men, women, even children and property were utterly destroyed in a war commanded by the warrior God. The Israeli students at the university were painfully aware of the problem. The Bible - The Tanach in Hebrew - Torah, Prophets and Writings were fluent on the tongues of my Hebrew speaking brothers and sisters. If Joshua's campaign became the model for the reconquering of Israel, we all felt our nation was in trouble. I sometimes wore a skullcap Isaac had given me. One Israeli student pointed to the book of Joshua I was carrying and then looked mockingly at my skullcap. "This dear friend is our Judaism." "The prophets," He interrupted, "teach and preach `Peace, Peace,' but the kings and Prime Ministers of Israel go to war." "The prophet is like the social critic of today," another student said. "If he opposes violence and believes in social justice, does this change anything?" The talk depressed me. In my readings I got bogged down in the section on good rulers and evil rulers in the two books of Kings. Yet on the whole, I had to agree with Isaac's father, the Reverend. The Bible is an

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern anthology of literature unexceeded anywhere in world literature. Sure it is uneven, Leviticus and Numbers and animal sacrifices are burdensome on first reading. Gandhi became disillusioned with the Torah after reading these books. Isaac would explain and give them meaning for me. Unfortunately, Gandhi did not also have Isaac as a teacher.

*****

Yes Theophilos, the joy of reading the Holy Torah and Prophets and Writings I remember; and visiting Isaac at the Yeshiva, and one professor, and one mysterious lover at Hebrew University.

Radas

Dr. Daniel Sechelman taught a course on the philosophy of Moses Maimonides as an elective in our program. Dr. Sechelman was also a Rabbi. He had, to put it mildly, a passionate love affair going with Maimonides. The Rambam. From Moses to Moses there is no one like Moses. The ideal Jew, religious pundit and philosopher. On my way to Sechelman's first class, an Israeli student noticed I was carrying Sechelman's book Maimonides - Philosopher and Torah Scholar. "I see you're taking Sechelman," he said. "You'll learn the ideal Jew lived in the Middle Ages. Sanctify our days as of old. Sechelman refuses to understand that Torah and Reason were separated and divorced centuries ago. Irreconcilable differences.' Sechelman believes Rambam found a way to be reasonable and to be a Jew," the student scoffed. "Look at the Chassidim, side curls like devil horns swinging from the sides of their medieval skulls. Black frocks and fur cape in the Mediterranean climate of Israel." He walked away shaking his head - "Reasonable." At UCLA, my philosophy professor, who recommended I learn Einstein's Theory of Relativity, had presented the standard line of the Jewish philosophy professors on Maimonides. Sechelman called this approach dualistic. He suggested an organic view of Maimonides. Isaac Husik and Leo Strauss, two great historians of Jewish intellectual history, split him into a dual personality, Maimonides the philosopher, and Rambam the Rabbinic Juror and Doctor of Law. Sechelman's task was to prove that Maimonides and Rambam were one, and that he accomplished a synthesis of the philosophy of Reason of Athens with the Revelation of the Torah.

*****

Dear Theophilos, Kindly forgive me my digressions and pedantries. Our dialogue, I

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern pray, will set a precedent making it impossible to canonize these words as a monolithic scripture. Here the written and oral traditions become one. Since I can talk to you as a friend, I will continue to chronicle the events that led me to Sheloh. This is no monologue and no sermon, so the whole truth and all details are chronicled. This is one of the Books of the Final Testament - The Book of Laurence. Its truth is the truth, the whole truth, as seen by Laurence. I pray it contains nothing but the truth, and I remind you, I speak so much of myself in this testament to the Messiah's life only to remind you that this is only one disciple's view of Isaac. I pray it is honest and accurate. So help me God.

Turnabout

My first year in Jerusalem was one of singular occurrences. I discovered the One God; was inspired by one professor of one course; and had one relationship, with a woman from New York. We met on kibbutz in the communal dining hall. I was visiting relatives. She looked Sephardic, an Israeli I thought. Her darkness melted my heart. She spoke Hebrew perfectly with a slight New York accent. I still have her picture. She is wearing her long black hair in a braid. Surrounded by a Jerusalem mist, dressed in a full, sequined shirt, she gives the impression of being a princess, from India or perhaps from the Yemen. We caught each other's eye and ate the Sabbath afternoon meal together. Inspired by Sechelman, I had begun to observe a few basic Jewish rituals. I washed my hands before eating bread, and recited an overlong eight paragraph grace after meals. She knew the grace by heart. She had attended Yeshiva high school. On the Sabbath the community recited grace together. She was silent. After she looked up sincerely and said "Thank you." Her grace seemed more inspired than mine. We walked. I talked of Torah, she of love. In the apricot orchard she took my head into her small strong hands and pulled me close. She stared straight into my eyes and said, "You will be my mate." I kept quiet but thought, soul mate, or playmate? Then she kissed me, and bit my lower lip so hard I thought it would bleed. I was angry and aroused at the same time. I asked that we return to the Sabbath afternoon Mincha prayer. In Jerusalem we became companions. I loved walking the streets and walls of Jerusalem. We began to walk together. She loved taking my hand in Mea Sharim, the religious section, where the ultra-orthodox forbade public signs of affection, even handholding. The young children rebuked, "Tsneeus Tsneeus," -Modesty modesty. Children picked up small pebbles to throw at r hands and legs. She picked up a rock and chased the young

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern children all the way down the narrow street. Laughing, she chased them, transformed into a mad child. We held hands in the movies. She took my hand. When I made the first move she pulled hers away. She also had to kiss first. I was afraid she would bite my lip again. Sometimes she would wrap her arms around me innocently, again a child, and weep. I comforted her, patting her hair, which was as dark as blackberries. Her hair smelled like the almond blossoms on the hills of Jerusalem in Spring. We went out only when she came to my room in the dormitory. I was not to visit her. In the early Jerusalem winter she invited me to dinner at a restaurant. She was a vegetarian, but insisted I eat meat. She took me to a movie. In the theater she put her arm around my neck and her hand on my shoulder. She whispered, "When I was a young girl, I woke early and fixed oatmeal for breakfast. I went to the porch to fetch the morning milk delivery. I found my father dying by the milk, clutching his heart. I thought if I hadn't awoke and made the cereal and needed the milk to cool the oatmeal, he would not have died. Now it was only me and my sister and my mother."

A Day Like Purim

The holiday Purim came in the Spring. Her sister was visiting from California. She had also been a Yeshiva student in a girl's Yeshiva, but had left that world and was now an art student in San Francisco, and a hippy. She had been in Jerusalem only a few days and already had an Arab lover. My costume for the holiday was a long navy coat, sun glasses, a black yeshiva hat, and a branch from a tree I carried as a staff. A religious student in my dorm rebuked me for the frivolous outfit saying, "Purim is a day of Joy, but not of mocking!" He said it was Yom Ha-key Purim, a day like Yom Kippur...If our enemies had their way, we would be fasting and beating our breasts on Purim. I did not take him too seriously. I wrote on the back of my coat in chalk: "When Haman saw that Mordecai would not bow down to him or bend to his will, he was exceedingly angry and sought to destroy all the Jews." I was dressed as Haman. My dorm mate was one of many Mordecais. On Purim everything is turnabout so I went to visit her. She and her sister sat at a table with three glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey. They smiled mysteriously. Both were dressed in long Arab dresses with crowns of flowers braided in their hair. Modern versions of Queen Esther, or Vashti. "The Mitzvah is to drink until you cannot distinguish between the curse of Haman and the blessing of Mordecai," they said with one voice. We three went to sit on her bed to finish the bottle. We left the glasses on the table and drank straight from the bottle until it

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern was emptied. I can only remember putting my arms around and kissing one and then the other. In the morning I woke feeling the Jerusalem sun on my face. My eyes were shaded by the sunglasses. The staff, hat, pants, and shirt were in a pile by the bed. I still wore Isaac's skullcap and the long jacket. I was in the middle. The sisters slept on either side of me, one in each arm. Their arms were under my head, entwined. Her roommate came in shaking her head, smiled and laughed. "Purim is over; you better go back to Mea Sharim." Her look made me feel I needed to do atonement for sins I could not even remember committing.

*** Passion - Reason - Revelation ***

She came to one of Sechelman's classes with me. Sechelman spoke of the Fear and Love of God in the worldview of Maimonides. I still have my notes.

Source:Mishna Torah, Chapt. 1-4 Theme:The God of Being may be understood and loved by all.

Source:Guide for the Perplexed (S. Pines translation final chapter) Theme:"And you shall (through philosophic knowledge) Love the Lord your God." (Deut.)

Love:Higher stage / individualism / Le Shma / longing- worldcome / free will / pluralism / philosophy

Fear:Lower stage / community / Lo Le Shma - serving for reward / longing-Messiah / obedience / ethnocentric / Halacha

The professor gave an involved explanation of the apparent contradictions of Rambam's views on the Fear and Love of God in the Laws of the Fundamentals of the Torah and the Laws of Repentance. I did not follow the argument of reconciliation. My notes stop with the above chart. She had taken off her sandal and was pressing the instep of her foot on the arch of my foot. She then removed my sandal with her foot and caressed my foot with her toes. She massaged and caressed the nape of my neck with her hand. The professor glanced at her disapprovingly. He continued the lecture and she continued with her caresses. She did not come to the next lecture. Her comment on the class: "The conflict is not between Reason and Revelation, and Torah and Philosophy, but between Passion and Revelation, and between Passion and Reason."

Final Encounter

I saw her only one more time. We alternated paying for our outings together, Mates. That night it was her evening. She picked a restaurant fancier than our usual choices as students. She insisted that I eat red meat and went so far as ordering a rib steak rare. She also chose the movie. A Clockwork Orange. She did not hold my hand that evening in the movie. Instead she held my wrist. She shook her head like a person perplexed or unsure of something. We were both aroused by the movie. Still holding wrist, she whispered in my ear. "Tonight I am a virgin. By the morning I will be a woman."

We are about to embark on a voyage on the sea of the Talmud Theophilos. The sails are open, ready to be moved by the wind. Many sailors have been lost this sea. You are a lover of wisdom, and I imagine you will want to join me on the journey. If not, you can continue with "My Wild Irish Rose," or the story of Lillith, which follows.

The Sea of the Talmud

Throughout the year I visited Isaac at the Yeshiva. He encouraged me to attend classes. I did and found them challenging but over focused. Judaism was studied. We did not study about Judaism. The sources. The text. I was frightened when I learned that everything one studied, they were expected to live. The beginning Talmud class I attended was taught by the Dean of the Rabbinic College, Rabbi Brauerman. I learned to love the dance of his hand over the Holy Text. His hands were exactly as one would imagine the hands of a Talmudic scholar to be, thin and pointed. His arms were slender, but his shoulders were broad and strong. He had the protruding stomach one expects from a scholar who exercised. He inspired thoughtfulness in his students and demanded a keen critical mind. I still have his picture in my study. It stares at me now even as I write. He will not approve of everything I chronicle in the Final Testament, but it was he who taught me intellectual honesty. I did not know then that I would learn to love him as a father.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern His large eyes appear even larger in the photograph, magnified by his glasses. A sardonic smile masks the gentle concern he felt for everyone he taught. The smile warns of a sharp tongue and cutting wit. In the picture his beard is close-cropped to the face and trimmed on the cheeks in the manner of the enlightened in the Rabbinic orthodox world. We studied the Talmudic tractate Gitten, on divorce laws. The Rabbi began with a basic introduction to Talmudic literature. He explained the dynamics of the oral law and how it came to be written down. We turned to a passage in our Gemara: "Matters which are written (The Written Law) you are not permitted to say orally and the tradition transmitted orally (The Oral Law) you are not permitted to write down." (Gitten 60: ) Rabbi Brauerman explained "The Written Laws of Torah are eternal. The Oral Law is fluid and in theory should not be committed to writing. It flows to meet the new realities created by change. The Oral Law, based on precedents in the Written Law, is dynamic and processes each new event in the light of the Torah. This keeps our Torah a living tradition and defines Torah as an ideal constitution. "Then what is this text before us?" I asked. "A single," the Rabbi said. None of us knew what he meant. Nor did anyone ask. He explained the inability of our ancestors to keep to memory the vast quantities of oral tradition that were ever changing and ever expanding. In the second century of the common era the material was redacted in six orders called Mishna. We discussed this process of compilation of the extraneous Mishnaic material called Barita and Tossefta. Rabbi Brauerman ended the class with a quote that summarized the essence and importance of the oral tradition to Judaism. "God made a covenant for Israel only for the sake of matters discussed in the Oral Law. (Gitten 60: ). I also learned in the first class that one always quotes one's sources in a Talmudic discussion. I came to class the following day also, skipping a lecture at the University. The Rabbi continued his introduction to Jewish Law. "The fundamental issue of Jewish existence is the validity of the Oral Law. Moses received two Torahs on Sinai, one written, one oral." I wondered and felt jaded when I thought of Rebbe Satman and his Freudian preoccupation with the Oral Law. "This belief distinguishes the Jews from other faiths. It is the essence of and the meaning of the Revelation of the Torah on Mt. Sinai. All schisms in Judaism center on this issue. The Sadduces accepted the sanctity of the Written Law alone. Christianity proclaimed a New Testament that abrogated the Jewish authoritative approach to scripture, the Oral Law." "The Karaites rejected the Jewish oral tradition and were forced to promulgate their own. The Reform Movement in our own day has, in my opinion, unsuccessfully wrestled with this issue. One defines himself as a Jew by Halacha, the path laid down in the

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern codes that reflect the Oral Law." I asked the Rabbi about Herman Strack's contention in Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash, that the existence of the Anshe knesset Hagedolah (Men of the Great Synagogue on Assembly) was a fiction. The other students frowned or scoffed at my question, but the Rabbi smiled so I continued. "If Strack is correct, then the chain of tradition described in Avot (1:1): Moses received the Torah on Sinai and handed it on to Joshua Joshua to the Elders and the Elders to the Prophets who handed it on to the men of the Great Assembly is broken!" "A good question," the Rabbi said. "At least a triple." I understood now that the Rabbi was using baseball terminology, but had no idea why. "You are correct that the existence of this great group of sages is held implausible by some contemporary scholars. The Persian period is historically hazy because of a paucity of original source material. A lack of evidence makes the thesis that they existed difficult to substantiate. But this lack of evidence does not a priori demand that we doubt the existence of the assembly. No, there is no reason to doubt the existence of the assembly, or that Ezra founded this assembly. The Rabbi now had a question for me. "Where does Strack make this contention?" "Page nine of the Atheneum College Edition." The Rabbi beamed his approval. "Excellent Reb Aryeh. A good Talmudist always quotes the page of his source." My fellow students looked on with envy. I had prepared for class the evening before by browsing all the books in the Talmud section of the library at the University. I had read the first two chapters of Strack and felt a bit guilty that I received so much praise for such little reading.

The Text

"Let us get to the text," the Rabbi said. We opened our Gemoras. The Rabbi explained that the very structure of the page of Talmud reminded the student that the study of Oral Law is process. Dialectic. We referred to the legal decisions of Rabbi Alfonsi at the end of the Talmud and the commentators also found on that page, and the comments of the Rosh and more. (Isaac had explained this process to me in relationship to Maimonides' Mishna Torah.) The Rabbi pointed out the Eye of Judgment, the Light of the Commandments on the upper outside corner of the page. These are cross-references to the Pesak Halacha, the legal decision rendered in the Mishna Torah and Schulchan Aruch.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern The Rabbi then raised his index finger and placed it on the Mishna and then the Gemara. "This is how we learn text in my class," he said. He took his index finger and pointed towards Rashi on the inside of the page. "This is how we learn our most valuable commentator on the page." He then raised his pinky. "We do not learn like this," he said, holding his index and pinky extended and the middle fingers bent. "Rashi comes to help only after we learn the text. One time, three times, one hundred times. We read, we memorize the ideas and learn them until they are fluent on our lips as a living oral tradition. We raise questions. Then we turn to Rashi to begin our dialogue with that great commentator." The Rabbi then pointed to the outside of the page. "These are the words of the Balei Tosafot. The Balei Tosafot are a number of Rashi's disciples who cross-reference the student to parallel Talmudic passages and explain our text in the context of all of Talmudic literature. They also refine and comment on Rashi's commentary. We do not learn Tosafot in this class. Tosatfot is for advanced students. Students need to finish this tractate before the first Tosafot has meaning. Tosafot is taught too early in Yeshivas," he said. "In theory, one should finish all the tractates of the Talmud before Tosafot is studied. Our first Tosafot assumes we have studied Baba Batra." "Nu," the Rabbi said, "let's begin." "One who brings a Get from the province of the Sea is required to say: `In my presence it was written, in my presence it was signed.' Rabban Gamliel says also one who brings from Rekem or Hegar. R. Eleazar says even from the village of Lod to Lod ..." We discussed the Mishna until a student asked why it was required that one say "In my presence." The boundaries of Israel were delineated based on our questions. I had a difficult time relating to the entire discussion. We read the Talmud on the Mishna. Questions were raised and discussed and we read the Gemara once again. We then learned Rashi. I followed the logic of the Gemara's argument, but found myself bored with the factual technicalities. The class was nearly over and I asked, "The tractate is called Gitin, yet the Mishna and Talmud do not discuss divorce. I do not understand why the document is discussed before the legal and moral principles of divorce are discussed." Again the students looked annoyed with my question. I was stared at like I was a heretic. The Rabbi answered calmly, almost serenely. "Reb Aryeh has not yet played in our ballpark. Yet his question is a valid one." He looked at me. "We will discuss this question after class." We then discussed the Rashi on one point and the class was about to end. The Rabbi had one final question for the class. "The Gemara, you will note, starts with Daf Bet, page two. What happened to page one? Please think of or find one of the reasons for this." Rabbi Brauerman spoke to me after class. A school boy impulse made me feel slightly uncomfortable, as though I had been bad and was therefore kept after. The Rabbi quickly assuaged that

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern feeling. "You ask good questions. We will have to teach you how to find equally good answers." I was told not to come to class. We would learn together privately. The Rabbi assigned me the Thirteen Chapters in the Mishna Torah on divorce for our next meeting. We would meet in his study.

The Rabbi's Study

The Rabbi's study was lined with books from floor to ceiling. Over the doorway a portal was cut to allow the Rabbi and his visitors into the sanctum. The shelves were deep enough for two sets of books on each shelf, one set behind the other. The holy books were topically arranged in an order similar to the one of the Judaica library at the University. Secular and critical tomes were behind the Holy writings. They were not allowed in a traditional Yeshiva. Years later when I visited the Rabbi, I noticed that here and there on the shelves the modern commentators and critical editions of Judaica joined their holy brothers on the front line of books. The Rabbi was now th Rosh Yeshiva, the college's director, and he felt more comfortable displaying the books outside of the tradition. The Rabbi greeted me with a "Shalom," and a smile, and asked how I was in Hebrew. "Ma Neshma?" Literally, "How is your soul?" With the Rabbi I felt comfortable giving the traditional answer. "Baruch Hashem." "God be blessed." This answer covered all, for we were taught to bless God for the good as well as the bad that we encountered in our lives. The Rabbi allowed me a few minutes to get to know him personally. I learned that he was a professor at the University. He had been ordained at Yeshiva University in New York. Rabbi Sechelman and he had been study partners in Talmud one year. As Dr. Brauerman at the University his field was Semitic languages. One area of his expertise as a scholar was the development of the Hebrew language in its nascent stages. He was also an Ugaritic scholar. He had an Ugaritic typewriter. The Rabbi moved us on to what in his mind was essential. We would learn Talmud together. Iyun, a depth study where we would trace the Deuteronomic verses on divorce and commentators and see how the Written Law was developed in the Oral Law. Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmuds, Rabbenu Alfasi and Commentators, Rebbenu Asher, The Tur, Schulcan Aruch, Aruch Ha Schulchan, and finally modern Responsa. At the time I did not know who these rabbinic commentators were. Our in-depth study lasted the rest of the year. We studied one and one-half hours a day. I filled two notebooks. The Rabbi also explained the technique and limitations of scientific Talmud study and indulged my questions on Christian approaches to divorce. In this study I began to master the rudiments of Talmudic research. It was a depth study. I also needed breadth of knowledge, as the Rabbi had explained in class.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Bakkeut. The Rabbi suggested I attend Rabbi Wilner's Mishna class. I did, and we eventually completed the Six Orders of the Mishna. The Rabbi taught us how to question the terse teachings of the Tannaim, teachers of the Mishna. We were taught how to be Amoraim, the Rabbis who analyzed and compared Mishna for four centuries, from about the third to the seventh centuries of the common era. The Rabbi prepared all the Gemara for each Mishana we studied. This is comparable, perhaps, to going through all the ideas of the Encyclopedia Britannica in one year. The Rabbi was a Master Teacher. When a student understood the Mishna and asked the Question of the Amora, the Rabbi would say "Excellent Reb Aryeh. This is the question of Abbaya," or "Excellent Reb Yitchak, such is the question of Raba." Needless to say, since we were made to feel like competent Talmudic thinkers, this is what we became. I was assigned a tutor. The Rabbi was pleased by my exuberant joyful "Yes" when he mentioned Isaac's name.

First Session

We began with the verses in Deuteronomy: 1) When a man takes a wife and marries her and it comes to pass that she no longer finds favor in his eyes, he has found in her something indecent; then let him write her a Sefer Kretute, place it in her hand, and send her from his house; 2) and she leaves the house and she goes and becomes the wife of another man; 3) and the other man hates her and writes her a Get, or the latter man dies... 4) the first husband may not remarry her since this would be defilement, an abomination before Hashem. Even these few verses unfold into a library of commentators. We read the translation of Onkelas on the page of the Mikrot Gedolot along with the various English translations. I learned that translation was the first step in Biblical exegesis and that every translator is an interpreter. At the time my Aramaic was not sufficiently fluent to do the Targum of Yonatan, the son of Uziel, or the Targum of Yerusalmi. We did study Rashi, Rambam, Ibn Ezra, Seforno, and Rashbam. Our dialogue expanded, and soon we were speaking with all the voices of the past who read the Written Law. These studies took up most of our first hour and a half. I asked too many questions on the lives of the commentators. The Rabbi said, "we shall learn who they are Reb Aryeh not by what they say, but by what they teach." Only at the end was I allowed to raise personal comments. "The law centers on what the man does to the woman. He takes a wife, he marries her, he masters her and then decides whether she is favorable in his eyes. He then, for reasons that are not clear, but that seem to imply some sexual impropriety, writes her a Get

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern and sends her out of his house. This is not an approach that recognizes any women's rights in the matter." The Rabbi smiled his, by then, familiar smile. "We explained that the Oral Law allows the Torah to be an ideal constitution. Divorce law evolved with our tradition to the point where a woman had to consent to divorce except in the case of divorce provoked by adultery." "But still," I protested, "a woman cannot initiate a divorce. What if the husband is the adulterer, and what about the Aguna?" All students of Hebrew literature are familiar with the Aguna problem. One gets the impression from the literature of the Jewish "enlightenment" that the problem was widespread, affecting large numbers of women. The Rabbi had a differing view. "The Aguna problem is overstated by the enemies of the Torah. It must be admitted that the Aguna is chained to her husband when she is deserted or the circumstances of the husband's death cannot be substantiated by witnesses. A solution will be found. The chain of tradition is not the chain of a slave anchored in an unredeemable past. The Aguna will be freed from her bondage. Halacha has changed dramatically since Sinai, and precedents for radical change are inherent within tradition." I thought of a discussion I had with Grove one night in a orchard near his home. Grove argued that Christians were now the true Israel and that Jesus had forever set me free from my personal slavery to my Jewishness. Grove had a wonderful relationship with his wife and I loved and respected the way they inter-related. Grove knew I might open my heart to Jesus because of my deep feelings for one of the female students who was a leader in the high school campus crusade for Jesus. Grove claimed that Jewish women were oppressed in every was imaginable by Jewish law, and that the only salvation was in the grace that comes in accepting Jesus Christ as our personal savior. All this passed through my mind in a moment. I said, "What does the New Testament say about divorce?" I was surprised when the Rabbi sent me to the New Testament sources. We discussed them during our next study session.

On the Shore of the Sea

The next session the Rabbi asked if I would read the Mishna in Hebrew. I did; The House of Shammai teaches that a man shall not divorce his wife unless he finds something unseemly in her conduct as it says, "He has found in her something indecent." Hillel teaches "even if she overcooks his food," as it says (Deut. 24:1), he has found in her a thing of unseemliness. R. Akiba teaches, "Even if he finds another more beautiful," as it says, "if it happens that she finds no favor in his eyes." I had reviewed the Mishna many times before our study session and said, "Bet Shammai's interpretation seems closer in meaning to the

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern intent of the text in Deuteronomy. Arvat Davar in Hebrew implies sexual impropriety. Hillel's exegesis seems strained, as does his legal opinion. If we are allowed to divorce our wives for overcooking or oversalting our food, where would this leave the institution of marriage?" Before the Rabbi could answer, I fired off another question. "Akiva's view is a wonderment. If one is allowed to marry another woman simply because she is more beautiful than his present wife, what happens when the woman who is more beautiful than the new wife invariably walks by? Where will the matter end?" I felt like a Jesus giving a sermon on a mount after so vehemently protesting Hillel and Akiva's more liberal understanding of the text. The Rabbi said, "So you support the reasoning of the School of the Shammaites? "Yes," I answered, "but I am bothered. Jesus favors the position of Shammai over Hillel in the New Testament. I always thought Christianity was in favor of liberation from the law." The Rabbi said, "You have read Matthew and Mark and I hope Corinthians. Do you think the position of Jesus is so different from the position of the Pharisees?" I had bought a copy of the New English Bible at the Hebrew University bookstore and turned to The Sermon on the Mount in Matthew, to reread a passage before I answered. (Matthew 5:31-32) I decided to read aloud. The Rabbi joined in, and I stopped. "If a man divorces his wife for any cause other than unchastity, he involves her in adultery," he quoted from memory and hesitated. The Rabbi was translating from the original orally and stopped only to be sure he was satisfied with his own translation. He continued, "Anyone who marries a divorced woman commits adultery." Even after a short period of studying Talmud I could not resist analyzing the text Talmudically. I said, "This goes beyond Shammai. Does this mean that once a woman is divorced for adultery, she can never marry again? Is this Christian compassion?" I was relieved to find a point I disagreed with. I laughed at myself for applying Talmudic reasoning to the New Testament. "The verses must be considered in the context of the whole sermon," the Rabbi explained. "In verse seventeen, Jesus says that he does not want to abolish the law. He then offers a number of cases where he demands his followers to go beyond the letter of the law." "So you don't think Jesus is uprooting Judaism?" I said. "No, not necessarily. Precedents exist within Rabbinic tradition that form the basis of Jesus' sermon. The rabbis did not attempt to legislate against one who is angry against others, or commits adultery in his heart. But in many stories of the Aggadah, it is clear that anger and lust lead us away from the path of Torah and good deeds." "Certainly the statement that one who marries a divorced woman commits adultery is not considered a viable legal precedent in

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Judaism." "No. A Priest may not marry a divorced woman, and a man may not remarry a woman he has divorced if she remarries. But Judaism considers the viewpoints expressed in the Sermon on the Mount extreme."

*****

I prepared for my next session - Talmudic and New Testament sources. When Jesus left Galilee, according to Matthew, and came into Judea, he preached to the great crowds that followed him there. There also the Pharisees put Jesus to a "test" on the issue of divorce. I had spent more time on this passage and wanted to discuss it thoroughly with Rabbi Brauerman. This time I quoted Jesus' response to the Pharisees. "Have you not read that the creator made them from the beginning Male and Female," (Genesis :27), "and for this reason a man leaves his father and is united to his wife. They are one flesh! Can man separate what God has joined?" "Why did Moses teach that a man may divorce by a Get?" the Pharisees asked. Jesus answered, "Because you have closed minds. But it was not like this in the beginning. I teach `if a man divorces his wife for any reason other than unchastity, and married another, he commits adultery.'" "Now it sounds like the Pharisees were actually following Hillel or Akiba's views. Jesus has a point, I think, in supporting Shammai. His proof text from Genesis is illuminating. Two people should marry forever. I remembered a lecture at U.C.L.A. on the quest for self in Eastern religion that one way to enlightenment is finding one's eternal soulmate." The Rabbi, in principle did not disagree with me. I was not sure why. He asked me a side question, "What of Jesus' view of marriage in verse twelve?" I looked down to the verse, "Let those who can, take it (celibacy) upon themselves." I knew in my personal life I had not found a woman with whom I could become one flesh with in a spiritual sense. (As you know, Theophilos, my sexual encounters had been anything but sacred and sanctified.) But my study session with the Rabbi awoke within me an inner voice that whispered quietly, "Find your soulmate and you will find yourself, and you will find your God." No, celibacy was not for me. I said to the Rabbi, "I'll seek my salvation in the life I can build with a nice Jewish woman." The Rabbi smiled. "Next session we will see what the American uncover in their comments in the Gemara."

The Gemara - In the Depths

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern My friend Theophilos, I am afraid it is impossible to recapitulate all the nuances of the dialectics in a Talmudic study session. We shall have to sit and learn the material together. Written, a Talmudic discussion is like a charred black carbon on the white page. The heat of debate is needed to ignite the words. I can only offer you my notes with some explanations. and a glimpse of the discussions I still remember. I must be Rashi to my own text.

Gemara Gittin 90 A.D. Summary - one verse-three views

1. Deut. 24:1-4 A. Basis three opinions. B. No word in Torah superfluous. C. The House of Shammai and Hillel come to conflicting views based on same verse. D. Amorian discuss their respective ways of learning verse.

2. Akiba's position is explained by the Amora Resh Lakish. A. His legal view is based on the beginning words of Deut. 24:1. Akib's view not apparent based on literal reading of teat. B. Neither in Hillel's! The Hebrew word "key," is central in understanding verse.

3. Legal opinions are hung on scriptural page (mountains hanging of a thread?) Each rabbi searches scripture for a way to prove his view! R. Meir explains some apparently aggadaic (extra legal) stories. He used to say "One's relationship to food is analogous to their opinion (relationships) to woman: i. Some, if a fly lands in their cup of soup, will throw the soup out. Like Pappas who locked his wife in the house when he left (!?!?). ii. Some throw away the fly and drink their soup. Most men allow their wives to talk to their brothers and relatives (how liberated of them. The prancer! Rampant puritanism and chauvinism!). iii. Some squash the fly and then eat the fly. This is the man who sees his wife go out with, (1) her hair uncovered and, (2) her pits (arms) uncovered (hairy?) and, (3) spins yarn(s?) and, (4) bathes with men. (a) The Gemara qualifies: 1. Bathes with men (surely a harlot as this has never lived) 2. Say more accurately - bathes in the same area as the men bathe in, 3. Sneaking glances as they dress - (Rashi).

Question for Rabbi: Do three types of women relate to three cats in Mishna? 1. Malachi II - 6 is analyzed. Connection - to our verse in Deut. i. Meaning of many phrases in all of second chapter -

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern murky. ii. Isaac's comments on end of Malachi (ask him if O.T. + God-wife of your youth Verse 16 - God hates divorce - lawlessness!) iii.Mal.2 verse 16 Targum:If you hate her, send her away (proof for Akiba now.) Rashi:Refers us back to our Gemara. Ibn Ezra: God hates it when a man sends away his pure wife. Radak:Explains like the Targum, that it is good when one who no longer loves his wife sends her out with a Get. Perhaps the new husband shall love her! But if he hates her in his heart and holds on to her, this is an abominable falsehood!

2.A.Gemara: R. Judah interprets Malachi to mean "if you hate her you should send her away." R. Yohanan says it means "The one that sends out his wife is hated." B. (i) There is no real contradiction. One speaks of the first marriage, the other of the second, as R. Eleazar said, "If a man divorces his first wife, the holy altar cries, as it says (in Malachi 13- 14) this you also do (a second time, the second wife also?) you cover the altar with tears, you weep and sigh, but God refuses to accept your offering from your hand. And you say, for what reason? Because your God is witness between you and the bride of your youth, you have been unfaithful even though she is (verse doesn't flow) your wife by covenant."

Tractate ends. Notes end.

I had many questions. We consulted Rashi. Rabbi Judah reads the verse as Akiba. R. Johanan reads the verse as Shammai. Rashi brings a variant textual reading that would bring Hillel's opinion into the discussion, who holds that while we do not prevent the husband from evicting his wife, even for reasons other than adultery, nevertheless, he is hated by God. "So what is the ruling already?" I asked boldly and impatiently. "We are not ready for rulings, Reb Aryeh., We must cross-reference with Tossafot. See the Gemara in Yevamot on divorce, and the Gemara in Sotah. Even then we are not ready to speak of rulings" I said, "The Gemara seems to imply we follow Shammai! What of the Radak's exegesis on Malachi? Are two who hate one another in their first marriage bound for life?" The Rabbi held up his hand, a dam against my questions. He turned

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern to the back of the Gemara and pointed out the commentaries of Rebbenu Asher, The Rosh, the Maharsha, the Maharam, and many others, too many to list. Finally we turned to the ruling of Rif - Rebbenu Alfasi. I was slightly overwhelmed. It would take me months to learn the methodology of these commentators. I wanted to know when they lived, how authoritative their respective rulings were, and if information I gleaned from biographical studies would illuminate the historical and sociological influences on their decisions.

The Rif

I remember some of our discussions on the R.I.F. (1013-1103). Our Rabbi, Isaac bar Yacov Alfasi, who prior to the Mishna wrote most authoritative code giving rulings from the Talmud. The Rif reports the Mishna word for word. It is now the fixed text. The Gemara, however, is greatly abbreviated. Only those legal viewpoints accepted as law are recorded. What is omitted is rejected as law or does not affect the outcome of the legal disputations. Additions are also found, cross-referenced from other tractates whose rulings are relevant to our subject. The Rif will also follow the Jerusalem Talmud, when the Babylonian Talmud reaches no decision.

The Rif, Gemara

The question of how Hillel and Shammai read Deut. 24:1-4 is excluded by the Rif. He extrapolates from this discussion that in a case where neither sexual impropriety nor domestic disharmony are present, one is initially not allowed to divorce his wife. Rabbi Akibi's opinion is evidently rejected. It is not clear why the Rif gives a synthetic legal decision based on both the opinions of Hillel and Shammai. The section about the three who found a fly in their soup is recorded, indicating that these stories or parables will have a bearing on the Halacha. The second husband with the fly in his soup removes the fly and eats the soup. The text of the Gemara reads: Compare this person to most men who allow their wives to talk to their brothers and relatives. The text of the Alfosi reads: "to talk to their neighbors and relatives." The Rabbi explained. "In the time of the Gemara, speaking with those outside the family was considered immodest. Social norms change. Even in Arabian society of the eleventh century, conversing with neighbors was not considered indiscreet. A Posek, a codifier, may define the moral parameters of modesty based on the values of the society in which he lives."

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern On the commandment to divorce a wicked wife, I see in my notes, the Rif adds, based on a cross-reference to the Talmudic tractate's Yevomot, a verse in Proverbs (22:10), "Send out the insolent wife and contention will leave and strife and disgrace will cease." The Rif then records the final section of our Gemara on Gittin with the following ruling also based on a cross-reference to Yevomot (62b): "One who loves his wife as himself and honors her more than himself" ...is referred to in the verse "And thou will know your home will be at Peace"

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Dear Theophilos, The words and conflicts in the Gemara prophetically foreshadow my own marriage. I know of no blessing for wisdom after the fact.

To Moses

Sometimes during our second month of study we began the Mishna Torah. The time sequence is blurred. It is over ten years from the time of our sessions studying Giottin to the time of this writing. Maimonides' decisions based on all legal materials before him follow. (Chapter 10 - Halachot 21 and 22) 21. A man may not marry with the intent to divorce ... Nor divorce his first wife unless he finds in her indecency as it says in the Torah "he has found in her something indecent." It is not fitting to hastily expel the first wife. The second wife however, if he hates her, he may send out (Immediately). 22. A wife who is bad tempered and not modest (chaste) as the kosher daughters of Israel, it is a Mitzvah to divorce. As it is written, "Send out the insolent and contention will leave." (Prov. 22:10) A woman who is divorced for indecency should not be remarried by a kosher man. Thereby it will not be said, "one sent this wicked woman from his house and this other brought her into his house." The text of the Mishna Torah raised many questions in my mind and we spent a number of weeks studying the commentary on Maimonides.

A Guided Tour and the Ordered Table

The Rabbi said that in our next session we would see The Tour .. I had heard "take a tour." I asked "Where?" He answered, "Here

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern in my office, of course." The Tur is the most prominent code after Rambam. Rambam recast the structure of the law into a thematic code. The Tur, the son of Asher ben Yehiel (The Rosh) critically sifted through the Halacha to his time. The Ordered Table, the code that is definitive even today was arranged by our teacher the Rabbi Joseph Caro in the 16th century. The Tur does not give direct decisions, but the student may ascertain his opinion by the way dissenting opinions are brought down. Joseph Caro, writing as "The House of Joseph" comments on the Tur. I shall attempt to reconstruct a few of the points we studied based on the text of the Schulchan Aruch. The Schulchan Aruch begins the Laws of Divorce and Divorce Documents where I expected the Talmud to begin, legal grounds for divorce. Law 3) A man may not divorce his first wife unless he finds in her indecency (Haga, but in Sanhedrin (Vilna Gaon gives source on inside)) it says "the altar sheds tears when one divorces his first wife" (Tur). And this is specifically the ruling for those times when a woman could be divorced by force (without consent) but if she (the first wife) consents, it is permissible.

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Theophilos, I will show you a copy of the page when we study together.

*****

This should make it clear how we spent a few months on the Ordered Table.

I asked two questions before reading the Haga.

1)How could we still be speaking of the law in terms of the opinion of Shammai? This is a question also on the view of Rambam. 2)I also wonder why one cannot hurry the first wife. If she committed adultery, she should be expelled immediately. If we are deciding like Hillel and not Shammai then it rests well, she should not be hurried. So what opinion, Hillel or Shammai, are we following? The Rabbi swayed back and forth as I asked the questions. I found I was also shokeling, and my thumb went up, in the Talmudists' gesture of a question, as I asked. "Ah," Rabbi brauerman sighed, "Reb Aryeh asks the questions of the Bet Shmuel. Let us see inside how the Bet Shmuel answers your questions." And we studied the entire session on this point, arguing until it became clear.

My Great Uncle - The Order of the Table

Again, I did not know it at the time, but the last text we studied on the Mishna in Gittin, the Aruch Ha Schuachan, is a relative of mine. This will not be well received by any orthodox Jew who reads this Final Testament, for it, and I, shall surely be put in Cherem, under the ban, excommunicated. Rabbi Jehiel Michal ben Aaron Epstein, the author of the Aruch Ha Schulchan, the order of the Table, dreamed in the late 19th century of bringing the rulings of the Mishna Torah and Schulan Aruch up to date by giving "final" legal summations of Jewish Law. His commentary unfortunately is too long to be included as an integral printed part of the Schular Aruch. Rabbi Epstein showed he was a visionary, as was Maimonides, by also commenting on whole sections of law the disapora oriented Schular Aruch omits. The Aruch Ha Schulchan of the Future speaks of agricultural law, laws pertaining to the rebuilding of the Temple, Peace, the Messiah, and so on. His work was, as is, essential for the modern state of Israel if Torah is to be its constitution. The Aruch Ha Schulchan begins with the verse in the Written Law and reviews all relevant material. This is both an excellent introduction and an excellent review of the material. (The sea of Talmud becomes shoreless when one dives in, and landmarks are essential.) I have his work in front of me now and will highlight some of his decisions. The law is according to Hillel, but one cannot leave one's wife simply because he finds someone more beautiful. Except perhaps the second wife; yet Reb Epstein leans towards forbidding Akiba's opinion even concerning the second wife. "Some authorities argue that in essence the law that one is not to divorce except if they discover sexual impropriety as Shammai says, or as Hillel says the relationship `spoils,' is not forbidden by authorities of the Torah or even the rabbis, but it is merely good advice. Yet a number of Rishonim (rabbis with great authority) from the former generations apparently hold it is forbidden (either by Torah or the Rabbis) and the Rashba writes in his response literature that this is the reason we do not require a blessing for the divorce `ceremony' since some divorces actually transgress Torah law as in the case where people divorce without any real legal cause...etc." When we finished the legal discussions we returned to our discussion on Jewish and Christian divorce. Torah law was advanced in some areas, allowing for divorce for reasons other than adultery, generations before secular law. Still I was amazed at the male bias of divorce laws. This criticism was not only directed towards Halalcha, but also against the "secular codes." On the other hand, I was haunted by the powerful metaphors of Malachi and felt that he also spoke to my generation who still

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern divorce too easily. I was most amazed then, at the time I spent at the Yeshiva studying with Isaac, studying with Reb Wilner, studying with Rabbi Brauerman. And I still had time to do well in my less demanding University courses.

My Wild Irish Rose

My first love in California was Rose. She was in Catholic high school, a senior while I was at U.C.L.A. I had an uncanny premonition of the destiny of my relationship with Rose. I met her through a close friend who was dating her. He and she visited me at U.C.L.A. Late one night when my friend fell asleep she crawled into bed with me. The next day I mailed her a dozen thorns in a white envelope. My friend and I dated her at the same time. We were being hip; cool. Jealousy was for those who need to possess. Love was not possessive. Rose left us both for a hippy who owned his own motorhome. They would travel through the early Seventies together. In away my buddy and I were relieved, for we were good friends and a shared woman will strain and eventually rupture the best of relationships.

Love Sick

I first saw her with Isaac. They were walking from the area of the central bus station across Allenby Square. I assumed they were together. She wore a shawl and a peasant dress covered by a heavy, natural-colored wool coat. The coat was protection against the cold damp of a Jerusalem winter day. The wind had malingered into the early Spring. I was struck dumb the first time I saw her. Reminded of Laura in Pasternak's "Dr. Zhivago," I just stared. I had seen the movie before leaving for Israel, with my friend, the one I shared Rose with. I had become ill after the movie. I do not know if the "cold" had been coming on, or if the emotional turmoil the movie stirred up within me, caused the illness. Zhivago loved both his wife and Laura. He had no choice. It could happen to me. And it was the adultery that birthed the poetry. She even looked like the actress who played Laura. Somehow a beam of light from the Jerusalem sky illuminated her face as one sees in a play or movie. This special effect was courtesy of the wind that blew two clouds apart, allowing the sun to shine through. Isaac saw I was entranced and attempted to introduce us. I walked off without saying a word.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Isaac walked Lillian home to her room. She had moved into an apartment across from the campus that week. When I returned from the University, Isaac explained that he and Lillian had just met. I would not have to share Lillian with my friend! I had resigned myself to a relationship of the imagination and now Isaac had made a real relationship possible. Lillian would not be a Rose. Like a lily among the thorns, so would my beloved be among the maidens. She would sustain me with raisins and almonds and refresh me with apples and honeycake. I spent the Sabbath in the Yeshiva with Isaac. The first time he invited me I had walked off to smoke a cigarette after dinner. I could not handle all the restrictions. Sabbath day I disappeared after the overlong morning and additional prayer services. In Jerusalem the movies and shops were closed, and I took a Sherut, a type of shared taxi, with seven other passengers, to the beach in Netanya. This Shabbat I would stay around the Yeshiva. Belief did not yet sustain me. Study did. I could not do all I heard and had learned. Rabbi Brauerman encouraged me to move slowly - with patience and even caution. A number of Yeshivot for Returners and beginners were opening in Jerusalem. Some encouraged a complete transformation to the rigors of the rabbinic lifestyle. Students one day - with long hair - Chassidim the next day with long, side curls. I also would stay around on the afternoon of Shabbat to visit Lillian,

*****

A number of students in my program at the University were also coming for Shabbat. They seemed intrigued and yet uncomfortable in the Yeshiva's pious environment. Some students wore the black hats of the ultra-orthodox. They were still identifiable as American by their rich tailored suits and colorful ties. Some wore black suits and black ties to indicate their total allegiance to the lifestyle of the pious Jew. It is written in the Torah, "and to walk humbly with thy God" (Micah 6:8). The Shulchan Aruch - Chapt. III "Laws Relating to Dress and the Manner of Walking," explains that black is indicative of "humility, humbleness, and modesty." The black suit, white shirt, and black hat and tie are mandated by law. At that time I wore my longest most pastel California pants with a blue shirt, purple tie, and tennis shoes. I was not yet ready to enlist in God's army. Isaac wore dark blue pants and a white shirt with no tie. He wore the white ritual fringes mentioned in the second paragraph of the Shema: "fringes on the corners of your garments in each corner a thread of blue. That you may look upon it and remember all the Mitzvot of Hashem (Numbers 15: 38-39). The thread of blue, Isaac explained, was not worn in our times by most Jews because the dye had to come from a mollusk found in the waters near the coast of

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Phoenicia. The dye was used during the time of the Mishna. To wear the blue thread was controversial. A few Chassidim claimed they knew the proper mollusk to produce the dye. Most rabbinic authority dissented. Isaac seemed untroubled by controversy. He explained to me that it is taught by tradition that the blue resembles the sea as the sea reflects the heavens and the heavens resemble God's Throne of Glory. The blue thread was essential to Isaac's spiritual path. None in the Yeshiva questioned his answers when he was asked why he wore the thread of blue. My first pair of ritual fringes - given to me by Isaac - would also contain the thread of blue. The Mincha service began before all the guests arrived. The students recited the "Ashray" prayer, the 145th Psalm in accordance with the Talmudic promise that "one who recites this three times daily is assured a share in the world to come." (Brachot 4b) The students bowed and swayed like trees in a forest moved by a gust of wind. The neophytes shokeled and bowed the lowest. Their fervor incited one of the visiting university students to near hysteria. I imitated Isaac who bowed gently at the prescribed portion of the prayer, but otherwise stood straight with his prayerbook held in front of his face. The leader of the prayer service began the repetition of the benedictions. Isaac interrupted his silent prayers to join the quorum in reciting the Kedushah, and then continued silently. He finished his prayer around the time the leader finished the repetition. Isaac recited his prayers with great care and devotion, especially the Mincha service. Rabbi Brauerman led the students in a song to set the mood for the greeting of the approaching Sabbath. Isaac, following his own personal custom, recited the Song of Songs. He traveled in lands I had not even imagined. Rabbi Brauerman waited until Isaac finished before we began the service welcoming the Sabbath. Isaac looked around and greeted each guest with a smile. I imagined my friends from the University speculated about Isaac. Was he Jewish? He did not look Jewish. If he was Jewish, he was certainly too "All-American," too normal, to be a Baal Tsuva. A Returnee to Orthodoxy! Wild tales were told at the University about the instant Chassidim, hippies who cut their hair except for the sidelocks, and never returned to the University program. They donned silk caftans and fur hats, and slid back into the early 18th century. The fear of these Chassidic "cults" was exaggerated, but sometimes justified. I will never forget the snare of Rabbi Satman.

The Altar

After services we entered the dining room for the Sabbath meal. Rabbi Brauerman's wife had brought her silver candlesticks from

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern home and a silver Kiddush cup along with a blue velvet Challah cover with the word Shabbat embroidered on the velvet. Two candles filled the room with their radiant yellow glow and warmth. The Rabbi's young daughter sat quietly looking into the flames. Her smooth, soft, child-like face reminded me of Lillian. The ends of two giant braided Challah loaves extended beyond the embroidered border of the Challah cover. Two small loaves - completely covered - were in front of Isaac. In front of the Rabbi's seat and Isaac's were Kiddush goblets filled to overflowing with a dark purple wine that reflected the candles' light. The Rabbi or his wife patiently answered the visitors' questions. The tablecloth was white to remind us of the Manna which fell in double portion on Friday (this also answered the two loaf question) and was fine like a white frost. The two candles represent the two versions of the Torah's injunctions on the Sabbath in the Ten Utterances (mistranslated as "Commandments" the Rabbi explained) "Remember the Sabbath day" (Exodus 20:8) and "Observe the Sabbath day" (Deut. 5:12). We sang the four verses of "Peace be unto you" three times. A student asked why. The Rabbi related the Talmudic story about the angels who accompany the Jew from the Synagogue to their homes on the Sabbath eve. Another student attempted to launch an involved discussion about angels. I was hungry and annoyed with the questions. Isaac sensed my impatience and calmed me with a smile. He recited Ribon Kol Ha Olamim to himself during the question and answer session. I was happy when the Rabbi cut the questions short but felt like the wicked son at the Passover table who wanted to get the rituals over with as quickly as possible, to get to the meal. We sang a "Woman of Valor" (Proverbs 31: 10-31) which describes the ideal Jewish mate. The metaphors struck me as slightly sexist, domestic, and overstated. I imagined an oppressed Jewish mother as wide as a merchant ship, bringing food from afar. The Yeshiva students sang the verses in Hebrew. Near the end they emphasized the verses by singing loudly: Charm is deceptive and beauty is vain Only a woman who fears God Shall be praised. I noticed Isaac's silence. He did not even utter the verses. I did not ask why. I wanted to eat. I thought of Lillian and imagined I understood Isaac's silence. One student from a semi-observant background asked in a reprimanding tone why the long knife to cut the Challah was not covered as the law demanded. Rabbi Brauerman ignored the haughty tone and answered quietly. "The table is an altar. The Torah teaches, `Thou shall not lift up any tool upon the altar (Deut. 27:5).' The reason the altar is built of unhewn stones untouched by tools is explained as follows: The tool - forged of iron - is a symbol of destruction. The altar, in contrast, is built to prolong life. It is a symbol of a

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern covenant of reconciliation. The iron tool may be forged into a weapon that cuts life short. The altar is built to bless us with long life and sanctity, and Peace. Our table - our altar - also atones for our transgressions. We invite honored guests who are accompanied by angels and the divine presence - then also join us in worship upon this altar." The custom prevails, and the custom of Israel is Law, to cover the knife before Grace after meals, or to remove the knife from the table. This is the custom on weekdays. On Shabbat the Schulchan Aruch explains - the might of Esau is put to test, as is the power of Satan and Evil. It is therefore unnecessary to follow th custom of the week. The Rabbi raised the Kiddush cup and recited the prayer of sanctification on wine. Isaac also lifted his cup and recited quietly - so as not to compete with the Rabbi - his own sanctification. I noticed he recited the 23rd Psalm and followed Kabbalistic customs as did Rabbi Meir. We all shared the wine. Isaac, noticing I also listened to his benediction, shared his cup with me. We then all got up together to ritually wash our hands for the breaking of the bread. I turned on the hot water tap to wash my hands. The ritual washing, I felt, was not sufficient for clean hands. A Yeshiva student protested that I would ignite the hot water heater and thus violate the Sabbath. Isaac rescued me, explaining that he had turned down the thermostat on the heater to make the hot water ritually acceptable. The student was following what others had told him and did not seem to follow Isaac's line of reasoning concerning the use of the water. In the end, he bowed to Isaac's superior knowledge and reputation in the Yeshiva. Isaac washed with hot water and liquid soap prepared before the Sabbath. He then picked up a two-handled vessel and poured cold water on each hand three times as did all the Yeshiva students. I also washed my hands ritually. Isaac filled the vessel for me and I then filled it for the next person. We all sat after the ritual washing for the Motzei; the breaking of bread. The Rabbi grasped the two large loaves - spreading his ten fingers and recited the ten words of the benediction in Hebrew. The Rabbi would teach me the Ten Commandments concerning bread found in The Ordered table which he meditated on before the blessing. He raised the loaves when he pronounced the divine name. Isaac waited until the Rabbi finished. As the Rabbi passed out the fresh yellow egg bread, Isaac looked at the loaves in his hand. He spread his ten fingers and seemed to meditate on each finger. Isaac would teach me the mystical meaning of breaking bread and the meaning of the ten Sephirot represented by the ten fingers, which grasped the bread. Isaac's loaves were short square loaves of whole wheat bread called Lechem Chai, which means both "Living Bread" and "The Bread of Life." All were required to dip their bread into salt before eating. Naturally, all the students asked why the bread was dipped in

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern salt. I raised my hand to answer. The Rabbi bowed in my direction, indicating that I could answer. "The reason," I said, "is to remind us (I paused here for dramatic effect) to take everything the Rabbi says with a grain of salt!" Isaac smiled. The Yeshiva students gasped and shot daggers at me and looks of contempt from mean, narrow, squinting eyes. The University students, unsure of the proper response, were silent. The Rabbi's wife laughed a deep hearty laugh and the Rabbi and their daughter joined her. I had not meant to embarrass my teacher, and was relieved when the Rabbi smiled. The Rabbi answered the question. "The food we eat is to be uplifted on this Ordered Table which is our altar. Salt is required with all that is offered on the Altar (Leviticus 11:13). The Covenant of Salt is everlasting (Numbers 18:15). Just as salt preserves and does not putrefy, so shall our covenant of Good Will as we eat together endure." I was silent during the remainder of the meal. Isaac did not eat the soup. He had prepared his own salad and ate brown rice and a special soya dish that he himself made with great love and care. He shared his meal with a vegetarian from the University. The rest of us ate our chicken soup and meat. Isaac ate slowly. He was more concerned with song than with finishing his meal. I ate too quickly. Isaac set his fork and knife down and looked at mine, indicating I should do the same. He recited "I Sing With Praise," in Aramaic. Written by the Kabbalist Rabbi Isaac Luria, the Ari Hokodesh (The Holy Lion) the hymn was comprehensible only to the initiated. Rabbi Meir, I remembered, also sang this hymn my first Shabbat in Jerusalem. I was learning Aramaic for Talmud but Isaac still needed to translate and explain. The forces of Evil are nullified by Songs of Praise to God. When we embrace the Sabbath bride, we bring her Joy, and the forces of Evil are exiled. The Gates of Paradise are open. We enter Eden and the apple orchard. We couple with the Sabbath bride as her groom. So God unites with Israel with great love. We then comprehend the Thirty Two Paths of Wisdom: The Torah, the Prophets, the Writings, and the seventy words of the Kiddush. The Menorah represents wisdom, and the bread prosperity, and they are put in their proper places to assure the continuation of prosperity and wisdom in our lives. On the Sabbath we learn secrets of Torah which are not revealed during the week, when they are hidden and concealed. The bride is crowned with supernatural mysteries at the Joyous Feast of the Holy Angels. The metaphorical fires of Hell do not burn on the Sabbath. The Accuser and Angels of destruction have no power over the Sabbath Peace. The Sabbath is a model of perfection. I listened without comment to Isaac's translation-explanation. I

God's Table

We all sang the traditional Sabbath evening hymns, The Zmerot. Even the University students were drawn into this fellowship of song and praise. I felt in awe of the beauty of the Queen Sabbath. Isaac gave a Devar Torah. He spoke briefly and to the point summarizing and highlighting the major events of the weekly Torah portion. Isaac brought the Torah to life and quoted various commentaries or verses to stress the non-monolithic nature of the Torah. At that time I was not recording Isaac's teachings. I do remember he quoted the Ethics of the Teachers: Rabbi Shimon said, "Those that eat at one table without speaking `Torah' it is as if they have eaten sacrifice offerings to the dead... But those who converse on the Torah have eaten from God's (literally from the God whose presence fills space) table, etc. Chapter Three Mishna Four." Isaac explained that Rabbi Shimon was the student of Akiba and the author of the mystical commentary on the Torah, The Zohar. He explained the mystical significance of raising the sparks found in food up to their creator. "Eating, as all areas of our lives, is to be an act of uplifting and holiness." I remember being deeply affected by Isaac's Torah and feeling like a child who still needed to learn the proper way to eat.

Havdalah

Lillian came for Havdalah. She stood at the entrance to the study hall and was ignored by the pious students. Isaac and I noticed her at the same moment. He indicated with his eyes that I should invite her in. Shy and confused, I walked over to Rabbi Brauerman to ask permission. Women and men are separated by a Mechitza, a partition, in orthodox Jewish practice and Lillian was the first woman in the neighborhood to show up for services. Rabbi Brauerman gave me his best, "Your question need not ever be asked," look and nodded his approval. Some checked Lillian out. She wore a long black pleated skirt to her ankles. Her toes peeked out of the front of her sandals. She wore a vest. Her shoulders were covered with a woven shawl. One of the students was staring at her head, caught in the curls of her tresses. She lowered her eyes. I invited her in. Rabbi Brauerman asked me to do Havdalah. Isaac held the candle as I took a goblet of wine and chanted: "Indeed God is my deliverance" (I thought of LIllian)

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "I will be confident and fearless" (Please God! I prayed) "For God is my strength and song... You shall draw water with joy from the wellsprings of Salvation... (We will live in Eden - in the apple orchard) "For the Jews there was light and joy, gladness and preciousness so let it be with us"

I looked at Lillian She smiled.

The cup of Salvation I raise and the name of God I praise." I transferred the kiddush cup to my left hand and recited the blessing on wine. I held a citron with cloves stuck into it for the blessing over fragrant spices. Blessed art Thou, Adonai Elohenu, who creates various types of spices. I caught a scent of must from Lillian's body. Yes, I thought, the gates of Paradise, let them open once again. I set the spiced citron down to make the blessing over the Havdalah candle on fire. I looked at Lillian but she was looking at Isaac as he held the candle high above Lillian's head. At the time, I did not understand the meaning of this mysterious action. Lillian understood and turned her gaze from Isaac to me. I returned the goblet to my right hand for the final blessing. "Blessed art Thou, Adonai Elohenu, who makes distinctions between sacred and profane."

Distinctions. I saw a bride crowned with supernatural mysteries of the joyous feast of the holy angels. My beloved would be to me and I to her., My life would never again be the same.

Lillith

I wanted to spend the evening with Lillian. She knew her way around the prayerbook and recited "May God give you," as did the Yeshiva students. I chose to pray another way as I stared at her pleasant face set on an elongated Picasso neck. Yes - she resembled Picasso's "Jacqueline" with the towering neck, large eyes, and long straight nose. I stared intently as though this were the first time I had seen a face. Lillian's hair was parted down the middle. Auburn medusa curls

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern framed her face down to a pointed chin. I saw a heart. Her lips were thin bows. She looked up from her prayerbook and saw that I was staring. Her large eyes were warm and brown. She smiled and lowered her eyes. I watched the long lashes that met and parted. I could almost hear a butterfly in flight. I roused my courage and asked her out to a movie. "I have another commitment,” she said pleasantly. I was too hurt to ask her if we could make it another time. Lillian returned to her apartment. I spoke to Isaac. I told Isaac I wanted to marry her. He looked at me with disbelief. "You don’t know the woman." Isaac warned. "You have fallen! Love may begin with infatuation but you must make the ascent. Don't be a fool in love with love." I did not understand the warning. That evening I saw Lillian on the back of a motorscooter embracing her lover. I was crushed. I went to her apartment Sunday evening. She offered me herbal tea and crackers with butter and honey. I was extremely nervous. "I saw you last night!" She did not answer but looked at me, not understanding. "I want you to know," I said, quoting the Song of Songs, "that even is you cannot be my bride I would like you to be my sister." She came over to sit next to me and seemed touched. "Laurence, Laurence. What are you talking about?" "Last night, I saw you with..." I started. "With my cousin," she finished. "He picked me up for a family gathering." I sat as silent as an ass tired of braying. She reached out to touch my hand. I surrounded her with my arms in a bear hug that told her I never wanted to let her go. She held me tight and, for reasons I still don't understand, cried. "Would you like more tea?" I did not answer, but looked at her as she got up and stood near the lamp. I saw a woman who was a curious intermingling of peasant and aristocrat. Her strong, wide shoulders were capable of carrying water or other heavy burdens. Lillian's biceps were larger than mine but her arm tapered into a thin wrist that was out of proportion to the large hand with thin fingers. Lillian's breasts were the breasts of a peasant - the breasts of a proud nursing mother. In a wedding picture I hold in my hands I am reminded of the pride with which she displayed her cleavage. Now they are strained against her blouse and seemed to defy gravity - jutting and turning up - as high and as proud as an aristocrat's nose. Neither of us knew how to make the first move. She sat on the bed. I sat next to her. We kissed slowly. She slid her tongue into my mouth and I immediately became hard. She lifted her skirt, revealing legs purple in tights. The purple accentuated the leg's shapeliness and I was aroused beyond control. I removed my pants and Lillian removed her top and bra. Her breasts were so lovely I moaned. I pulled the purple tights off her legs and

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern followed the musky scent to heaven's gate. She turned to face me and lovingly massaged my face with her breasts. For the first time I saw the necklace with her Hebrew name swinging between her breasts. Lillith.

Sitting

Isaac asked me to attend at the Yeshiva. I would be near Lillian and learn how to be a Jew. I told Isaac I did not believe. He said I did not need to believe but to be-live. Isaac explained, "Learn the way of Judaism. You must walk down the path to see where it leads. Belief is not the first step." I did not follow Isaac's argument. "I want to know, experience, and find God," I said. Isaac shook his head,"No." "Find yourself. Follow your heart. You said it yourself. You want to learn how to be a Jew, not about Judaism. You must let go of your analytical self and movement and experience a Jewish lifestyle by living as a Jew." I moved into the Yeshiva. My course work at the University complete, I settled into the Yeshiva study routine. Lillian returned to the States for the summer and I studied full-time. Up at seven for the morning service and lunch at noon with all the appropriate blessings on the food. The afternoon and evening prayers, the University study until eleven. A special prayer before retiring. Isaac taught me how to go to sleep. He opened the prayerbook of the Ari Zal - Rabbi Yitzchak Luria - the founder of Lurianic Kaballah. We recited: Master of the Universe! I forgive anyone who has angered or cursed me or sinned against me, whether it be bodily or financially, against my honor or anything that is mine, whether by accident or intention, inadvertently or deliberately, by speech or action in this incarnation or any other. And let not any individual be punished because of me. May it be your will Lord, my God, and God of my fathers, that I not sin again, nor repeat past transgressions, so that I do not anger you, doing what you consider wrong. And where I have transgressed, erase in your great mercy, but not through suffering or severe illness. May the words of my heart and the meditation of my lips be acceptable to you my Rock and my Redeemer. This is only the first paragraph of the Shema recited before going to bed. I loved this ritual. Especially the part about forgiving those who harmed me in another incarnation. Isaac was pleased when I added that I must also forgive myself for any follies I committed.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern He explained, "Before we retire, we do a Chesbon Hanefesh - and assessment of our inner being and how it manifests in the day just past. This introspection is the essence of returning to God and self. We review moment by moment the actions of the day. We then pray that our sleep be one of Peace and we get up in the morning reborn. Each day is like a lifetime. With fear we face the night as we slip into its dark arms. We enter a dream kingdom in a type of death. Ascending or descending Jacob's ladder, we are judged by our deeds of the preceding day. The next day is a new creation and we are given another chance to recreate our world. Yesterday I slipped many rungs but today I shall continue the ascent! Each day is a prelude, a practice for the final day. A chapter in the book that is our life. Each book has an end. The same end. Each chapter moves to that end. The story is as individual as the person living it, but the end is never in doubt. And before he dies, a Jew recites the Shema. Listen Israel, the God Yehovah and Elohim are one. And the communal confessional, "We have transgressed; robbed; slandered; rebelled, etc. So each night we prepare for the final night and say these prayers." Isaac was in rapture. We recited the Shema to ourselves and Isaac explained the Kabbalistic section of the service. We said a number of verses three times. "When you lay down, don't fear, you will lay down and you sleep will be sweet." (Proverb 3:24) "May I sleep well, may I awake in mercy." and then Ha Mapeal: "Blessed art Thou Lord our God, King of the universe, who causes to fall the bands of sleep upon my eyes ... give light to my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death." "After Ha Mapeal, one should not speak," Isaac explained. "Concentrate on peaceful sleep with pleasant dreams." Isaac also explained the other prayer services to me, especially the afternoon service which he prayed with special devotion. That entire summer we studied all day, every day.

Dear Theophilos, If I could recreate the intense joy of our devoted study on a day to day basis in words, I would. My friend, I would love to sit and learn together all that Isaac taught. I became adept in Talmudic studies. As a scholar, you may understand the unholy mingling of awe and contempt of our colleagues towards Talmudic research. Mastering the material takes a minimum of three years, time most scholars cannot spare. Their assessment of its content is not difficult to fathom and is most often jaded by jealousy.

Isaac was a most excellent navigator on the Sea of the Talmud. We set sail from the shore on the "Menstruate Women” We chartered the agricultural laws and laws of charity and moved on to the sanctification of time in the holy days and Sabbath. The Mishna has six sections. Shaas. One entire section on Woman, one on Damages, one on Sacrifice, and one on Ritual Purity. Seeds, Seasons, Woman, Damages, Sacrifice, and Purity. In Mishna the order is essential. All interrelates.

We studied the commentary, the Talmud, on all the Mishnas superficially, only skimming the surface. Still the voyage took three years. We also did thematic depth studies. I learned how to dive for pearls. "A Yeshiva," Isaac explained, "as the Hebrew indicates, is a place for sitting. In a Zen sitting we would empty our minds of the clamor of the world to hear the void whisper her ineffable song. In a Yeshiva we become sense and mind satiated, filling our heads with the meat and wine of detailed and nuanceds legal problems. We transcend the world only by being totally immersed in the world. When the mind's appetite is satiated, it is stilled, and thoughts turn to God." "The Way of Judaism - the Halacha - is like the body. The spirit of God animates the body and should be manifest in the action of every limb. God's will and spirit can be embodied in the world by those who walk in the Way." "The Way of Judaism is not nameless. It has a most detailed map. The directions are clear." "Where can I get a copy?" I asked half in jest. Isaac's answer was serious. "God speaks to the Jew through the medium of the Schulchan Aruch. In its pages are the distillations of the centuries of Talmudic speculation on the proper embodiment of the will of God in our world of action. I began to read the Schulchan Aruch from cover to cover. I would have many questions on this map and where it would lead me.

Awakening

Lillian returned at the Summer's end. She had not written except to tell me of her return. She told me in a monotone of her summer. Her first month home she missed her period. She was sure she was pregnant. A few days late, she worried herself into the next month and also delayed that period. When the period finally came she bled like she had been stuck with a spear. I told her I would have married her if she had been pregnant but she looked at me vacantly. . Lillian transferred to a non-orthodox, more egalitarian Yeshiva, without telling her parents. In the morning I studied with Isaac, in the afternoon by myself. Isaac used afternoons for

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern his PhD. studies. Saturday and Wednesday evenings I went out with Lillian. She demanded more time together even though we had begun to quarrel and our relationship was becoming strained. I learned how to awaken from the Schulchan Aruch. I would follow the map to wherever it would lead me. Isaac taught me the following about its order:

The Four Turim

The Four Turim that are the model for the codification of Jewish Law in the Schulchan Aruch are based on the arrangement in the legal codification called the Tur, which is modeled on the Breastplate of Judgment worn in ancient times by the High Priest. The sacred vestments made for Aaron were beautiful and dignified. They included a knitted tunic, a turban and sash. Aaron, the first Cohen Gadol also wore a Breastplate of Decision and Judgment. The breastplate was gold, set with four rows of turim or gems. Each row had three stones. Engraved on the stones were the names of the 12 sons of Israel. When he entered the sanctuary, Aaron wore the Breastplate of Judgment and Decision. The breastplate also contained an Urim and Tumim. One translation of the Hebrew is "Lightings and Perfections." The Urim and Tumim were consulted by the high priest as an oracle and gave forth its decision like a type of divine computer. Program your questions and the Urim and Tumim would reveal the will of the Almighty. This flashy divination inferior of course, to the direct communication with God that the prophets experienced. A priest is not a prophet and this may explain why his lower level revelation was of necessity more speculative. The Septuigent translates Urim and Tumim closer to "teachings and truths." The Torah does not explain how the divine message was manifest in the Breastplate of Judgment or how it was deciphered. I imagine it lit up with radiant colors like the control panel of an alien spaceship. Rashi, Rambam and the Zohar Hakodesh say that the Urim and Tumim were based on mystical combinations of the holy letters of the names of God. The priest would meditate on the letters and attain divine wisdom. Mystics still seek the divine names even though the Urim and Tumim were lost in antiquity. The Schulchan Aruch is the Breastplate of Judgment of our time. The four rows are the four major divisions of process of seeing divinity manifest in the laws that order our lives. We now have only the light trapped in the black coal letters on the white or yellowed pages of legal codes. We pray for the day, may it come speedily, in our time when again prophets will dialogue with God and the Priest in their service will renew their spectacular divine service. Our form of service today is to ignite the coals with the heat of

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern study and imagination, to watch the letters ignite. This is done with the help from the divine sparks in the words. Ignited, they consume the mind and page, and again became one with their divine source.

Isaac, as you see Theophilos, was easily carried away by elegies which were a cross between encyclopedic discourse and sermon. Still I loved listening to him. He laughed at himself and came back to this world. "We turn the letters into light by study. The book is like the body. We must breathe into it the breath of life. When you study the Schulchan Aruch, do not forget the source of the letters, the light of the Perfect One," Isaac concluded.

With all this I opened the large first volume of the Schulchan Aruch with commentaries.

Volume One Chapter One LAWS ON AWAKENING IN THE MORNING

1. "Set God always before you..." (Psalm 16:8) Will you hide in secret places assuming I shall not see you? I who fill all space! (Jeremiah 23;24) "Consider this" the Mechabar, the author of the Schulchan Aruch tells us, "and awe and humility will overwhelm you and you will fear God." I immediately had questions the traditional commentators did not answer. God was a given, assumed. Always there. Become aware and then you fear. I did not want fear or authoritarian religion. I do not want my own children to fear me. I want them to love me. I went to Isaac.

"Read the next halacha." he said returning to his own studies. I did.

2. While a person is still lying in bed they are obligated to acknowledge in whose presence they have awakened. At the moment of awakening be mindful of the Mercy of God, who is blessed, that the soul has been renewed...and so worship with your Very Being as we are taught in Lamentations. "They are new every morning. Great is thy Faithfulness." This means every morning we are like a new creature and for this God should be thanked with all ones heart. While in bed one must say: I offer thanks to you living and Eternal King for you have mercifully restored my soul within me. Great is Thy

Theophilos, I wrote this prayer out in Hebrew and English. At the time I felt neither reborn nor convinced of God's or my own faithfulness.

The third and fourth laws of the first Tur of the first volume or row of the Schulchan Aruch lit up for me like the Urim and Tumim. The coals ignited. I saw the light and the fire. Rabbi Judah, the son of Tema taught: "Be as bold as a leopard, as light as an eagle, as swift as a deer, and as strong as a lion to carry out the will of your Father in heaven." "Strong as a lion," the Mechabar explains, means not being ashamed when mocked for serving God. I prayed that I not mock that part of myself which was the Lion. "Strong as a Lion" also refers to the service of the heart which is the source of divine service. It is our duty to strengthen our hearts and to prevail over evil inclination in the manner of the hero who makes every effort to prevail over an adversary. The book warmed in my hands. I had found my manual of discipline to defeat the sons of darkness. I would be the Lion. Aryeh. The Lion of God. A Lion, I strengthened myself and rose quickly the nest morning to serve the Creator. The winter and summer would have no power over me. I would warm a cold morning with a burning desire to experience God, set always before me, in every act of my life. In the summer, tired from fewer hours of sleep I would yet get up with the sun to praise God along with the first rays of its radiant light. Isaac was always up before me. I loved his warm grin of approval. My friend and my guide helped me rebirth as a born again Jew. I would and could not do it alone. The shift from head to heart, from speculation to strength, occurred only by Isaac's example. I knew that intellectually he was more gifted than I, and that he believed. I learned how to set God always in front of me. I also wanted to know God. I told Isaac. His eyes beamed at me - two gentle sun=filled bright skies. Isaac said that I would not only learn the knowledge of God but that I would also experience it. I did not ask what he meant.

Chassidism

The next Sabbath Isaac was my spiritual guide on an adventure. We left the world of the Yeshiva and the 1970's and we walked in the direction of Solomon's Temple. We walked down the Kings of Israel

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Street into Mea Sharim. I took this road often to pray at the Wall, but never understood the connection between the Kings of Israel and the Chassidism of Mea Sharim. Isaac would explain. Walking alone, I always felt I was walking into the past.

Dear Theophilos: This journey is also described in the Psalm section of Final Testament, Final Interlude.

Isaac shared the same feeling. It felt like we were walking into the 18th century. I almost said Middle Ages. The dark frocked Chassidim seemed from a darker age. The street narrows and then narrows again. Symbolism I did not grasp at the time. The litter is not noticed by the people who are not of this world. The only trees I remember are in the Arks of the synagogues. The Torah, a tree of life to those who take hold of it. These exiles from Eden have all but forgotten the Garden. Many Israelis, the Non-Jews in Old-New Land, despise the Chassidim.

You may have heard the gossip Theophilos. You can get the Chassid out of the ghetto but you can't get the ghetto out of the Chassid.

Isaac explained the spiritual significance of Mea Sharim's architecture. Mea Sharim was built as a fortress. The gates were closed at night as protection against enemies. The houses needed to face in upon each other and the Chassid preferred it that way. A fortress for a Jewish lifestyle they are trying to preserve. In our time, say the gossipers, in the language of the evil (La Shone Ha Rah) brigades of dark frocked Chassidim sweating in their fur hats under Jerusalem's sun, sweating and stinking, patrol the streets armed with stones. Silly sidecurls fall from their defiled temples. This stereotype, Isaac said, is unfair. My only fear was the Satmans lurking in the dark doorways. Isaac however, saw and sought and found only holiness. He studied with many of the rabbis of Mea Sharim, and for every hour he put into his studies, he reaped one hundred measures of wisdom. During the week, bus after tourist bus visits Mea Sharim. The locals earn much of their living from these visits. They never see a Mea Sharim Sabbath. No buses allowed. With Isaac as my guide, I was able to experience what went on behind the 100 gates. The streets were all but deserted. All were at home at table enjoying the Sabbath meal. The nest day I would see hundreds of housewives wheeling young children in carriages, stopping to converse. This was a Chassidic version of the world to come right here on Earth. Excluding cars and buses set the mood. One day a week the

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern hustle and bustle is transformed into the Sabbath's tranquility. This evening, Chassidim who were not at home, were with their Rebbes. We entered a synagogue. The room was dim. Coarse wooden benches and tables were pushed together to form a square U with the head table. The Chassidim had finished the Sabbath evening prayers. The Rebbe had not. His prayer area was a private room sectioned off within the small synagogue. It looked like a confessional. The Chassidim prayed, studied, and met, in their sacred brotherhood, in this same room. Tonight the Sabbath table was in the center of the room. An oversized Challa bread as long as outstretched arms from finger to finger, was at the center of the table along with an oversized silver goblet filled with sacramental wine. The Rabbi's followers, his Chassidim, waited for their saint to complete his prayers and filled the time with Niggunim - wordless songs to set the Sabbath mood. The synagogue was not crowded but the Chassidim packed in close together, hands on each other's shoulders. The song was slow and sad and I felt myself sinking back into my old cynicism. The Chassidim appeared dirty to me, like dark fallen angels. The Rabbi emerged from his private prayer room. He was greeted with an uplifting, fast niggun and faster shokeling. The Rebbe greeted each Chassid with a Sabbath Greeting. He smiled warmly at Isaac. He stared at me and I looked away. The Rabbi chanted the blessing on the wine to sanctify the Holy Sabbath. I looked at him in the glow of the Sabbath candles. Perhaps he was a saint. Long, pure, and white. His side curls hung straight. Unlike his followers, he was not so vain as to curl them. In contrast to their drab, he wore caftan silks the color of royalty. The caftan was stitched with a fine flowery design. The Rabbi spoke after Kiddush in Yiddish. I did not understand and was soon bored. When the singing began, I joined in. The Rabbi did not sing. At one point he appeared supremely indifferent or bored, but I realize now I may have been projecting. He rolled his eyes, perhaps seeing a heavenly vision, and began to drum a beat on the table with his fists. He started the song. His followers went wild responding with intense joy. They shokeled back and forth with such intensity I was afraid we would fall. A circle was formed and all but the Rebbe danced and sang. We danced around him. Bread was broken and pieces passed from hand to hand. The Rabbi recited the blessing. I did not was or eat but Isaac did. The Rebbe raised the holy sparks in food to the upper worlds. Isaac reminded me that I need to learn this skill. I could not get into the spirit of the meal. Isaac saw sparks and I saw germs. I wanted to leave but Isaac wanted to stay. I watched with the detachment of an anthropologist observing the bizarre rituals of far off tribes. I wanted no part of this crude form of the Last Supper. I was upset by how negative I felt. Isaac ate each piece of food as it was passed from hand to hand by the Rabbi after he

A Real Chassid

"Imagine," I said to Isaac as we left, "we just walked through this door into the Dark Ages." "Isn't it wonderful?" Isaac said, missing my sarcasm. In the dark he saw only the flame. "I find the entire scene Medieval," I confessed. Isaac must not have assumed Medieval meant backward, because he again didn't hear my cynicism. "I'm trying to find God," I complained to Isaac directly. "What am I to learn from these pietists stuck in time? I live in this century. What can these throwbacks to 19th century Poland teach me?" "The Chassidic movement began in the 18th century," Isaac corrected. "I know," I said defensively. "I've read Buber's stories." "They call them Buber ma-asays," Isaac said. "What?" "The Chassidim loath Buber. They call his stories Buber ma-asays a play on the words Baba ma-asays, old grandmother tales." "What could they possibly have against Buber?" "The Chassidic story is the main vehicle of its teachings. A story is a Ma-aseh. But a Ma-aseh is more than a story. A Ma-aseh is also an action. A story is told as a bridge to an action. It is a fiction we are to make real or a true story that guides us to become adept in the action it describes. Chassidim teaches how to bring Godliness into our world. The hero is the Tsadik, the Rebbe, who manifests God in his every breath and action. To borrow Buber's terms, the Rebbe becomes the living model of the `Thou' in the realm of actions. Buber is critiqued by the Chassidim for telling the stories but forgetting the reason they are told. The stories are but lampposts on the way, illuminating the path of Jewish practice, the Mitzvot and Halacha. In some ways this critique is valid," Isaac explained. "Chassidism is not an intellectual system that remains in the realm of theory. The stories were not told as fiction. Chassidim is a technique that teaches one how to act out and dance the divine will!" "Who were the first Chassidim" I asked, wanting to get off Buber. "The first Chassidim existed over two thousand years ago. They are mentioned in the Mishna. Also," Isaac added, "I'm sure you remember from your readings of Scholem the Chassidim of Ashkenaz (Germany) in the Middle Ages. The most recent manifestation of people who call themselves Chassidim began with the Baal Shem Tov. Baal Shem Tov means

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Master of the Good Name. He began his ministry in 1734 at the age of 36." "What is a Master of the Good Name?" "A miracle worker." "Miracles. That sounds Christian to me!" "No," Isaac said. "The Baal Shem Tov was adept at the use of God's secret and holy name. He performed many miracles." "Was the Baal Shem Tov a messianic pretender?" "No, but the miracles he prayed for were definitely messianic," Isaac answered. "Meaning?" "The Baal Shem Tov (Besht), like all traditional Jews, wanted with all his heart and soul and very being for the redemption to come. The messiah is the forerunner of this radical transformation, this paradigm shift, into messianic time. Up to the time of the Besht, messianic pretenders were rampant. The Jews had recently survived but barely, the antics of Shabbati Zvi. Two years into his ministry, the Besht was faced with the messianic pretensions of Jacob Frank. The idea of the Messiah had reached a crisis point in Jewish history. As Scholem explains, Chassidism had to remain spiritual but also had to neutralize the dangers of false messianism." "And his solution?" "A refocusing of the Messianic hope form the Redeemer to the Self. It is explained most beautifully by a Maashal of the Apter Rebbe Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel of Apt." I interrupted Isaac. "Does this mean Chassidism gave up on the idea of the Redemption of history and the Redemption of the community?" "God forbid!" "It's now a matter of what we do until the Messiah arrives." "Perhaps there is danger in his solution," I said. "Explain," Isaac said. "By focusing on ourselves, on the individual, more people may come to feel they are the Messiah." "They are," Isaac said. "What?" We had covered this before, but it was just beginning to sink in. "Each and every person is the Messiah of their own unredeemed world."

*****

Dear Theophilos, you might want to turn to the Psalm section to see how this theme is poetically explained at the end of the Final Lecture.

*****

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "So there is no need to wait for another to magically transform us?" I asked., "Exactly." "But what of the messianic dreams of the redemption of the community of Israel?" "Actualized spiritual individuals become the models for others in the community to attain Redemption." "The Tzaddik, the Righteous Ones?" I said. "Yes." I thought of the Tsadik we had just visited. "Isaac," I said, "this is fine in theory, but if I remember correctly, the institution of the Tsadik quickly became corrupt." "Not in all cases," Isaac said. "The corruption of the institution of the Tsadik is over stressed in Jewish literature, especially the literature of the so-called Jewish enlightenment." I was annoyed when Isaac spoke this way. He sounded like Chassidism's P.R. man. "On the whole, the Rebbes were pious God fearing and God loving individuals. Amidst the miseries of poverty, of persecution, they uplifted their followers into sanctity and joy." "But it all sounds so tribal," I protested. "Hundreds of thousands of Tsadikem or Rebbes each with their enclave of devout followers." "The model is more like that of the Kings of Israel," Isaac explained. "King David was a Tsadik." "What about Uriah the Hittite?" I protested. "And all the blood David spilled in wars." Isaac laughed. "I said a Tsadik, not a god. David was flesh and blood. So were the Tsadikim. They suffered the tests of all who are tempted by power." "I believe the Chassidim could have chosen a better model," I said. Isaac shook his head. "The Chassidim didn't choose this model, it chose them. Jews lived in small communities, isolated form one another, all over Europe. In many ways the economic basis of the society they lived in was feudalistic. So spiritual fiefdoms are not a surprise, are they?" "But this model brought us no closer to the Redemption," I complained. "That remains to be seen," Isaac said. "It seems to me that the Chassidic isolationists of today are content with trying to save their own little worlds. And I wonder if they're successful at that." "What do you mean?" Isaac said. "Here they are, living together as an organic community, praying, often in ecstasy, to a God they love, ministering to one another with Charity and other deeds of loving kindness. That to me is success." "But Isaac," I said, "They are so dreary. Where is the spontaneity? The joy? And why do they seek to forsake this world? It's filthy here. Have they no pride? If the Tsadik teaches the individual to actualize himself, and if the system works, then Mea Sharim should be an ideal community, a showplace,

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern so that all who enter would say, `Ah, here it is, a Jewish community that can be a model for the communities of the world.'" Isaac did not answer directly. "The Besht resurrected the Jews from their spiritual death." Isaac said pointing a finger at me. "When his vision ignited, sparks flew all over Eastern Europe and a spiritual renewal began. The embers have died down, but the teachings remain." "Isaac," I said, confronting him directly, "this is not enough!" "Why?" "This turns the Messiah into a fiction. An escape. This world is intolerable so we'll make up stories and escape into unreality. A paper Messiah crushed between the pages of a book. If you're honest with yourself," I said to Isaac, "you'll admit that the Chassidic movement is all but dead." "No. I don't believe so," Isaac answered. "We still have Tsadikkim who are the living embodiment of the Torah's teachings." "Who live in isolation, thinking only of themselves," I interrupted. "Not so," Isaac said. "The Ladover Chassidim actively seek new members." I knew Isaac would mention the Ladovers. They were the Chassidim who had tied Tefillin to my arm and head on my trip to Israel. Isaac said we would visit a Ladover Rabbi after seeing the Rebbe we had just visited.

The Ladovers

I had arrived in Israel with many of their leaders and the Sefer Torah that was to be presented to the Messiah. At that time I would have laughed if told that I would study with them and consider joining their group. I mentioned to Isaac how distasteful I found the Mitzvah Tanks fashioned from a Tefillin design, and the guns in the film. "God's Army," I said scoffing. "The Rebbe, the Tsadik, as General." "The Messiah is a role model, like a Tsadik," Isaac answered. Isaac was not offended by the militant spiritualism of the Ladovers. He said that in time I would come to understand. "According to the Besht," Isaac explained, "The Messiah comes when all Jews everywhere become illuminated by Chassidic teachings." "Will He die?" I asked, not wanting to dwell on the Ladovers. "Of course," Isaac said. "Who will succeed?" I asked. "That is a better question," Isaac said. "The Chassidic dynasties like the ancient monarchy of Israel followed the line of succession from father to son. The Torah honestly reports that many of the kings were competent, but that they were wicked. Some who ascended to the Chassidic throne were not worthy. The monarchy is a divine concession to Israel's need to be ruled. The issue we will face is: who will succeed the Messiah?" "His son?"

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "Perhaps." "Will the Messiah marry?" "Of course," Isaac answered. "If his son is not worthy?" I asked. "Elections?" Isaac speculated. Isaac laughed. "Messianic election or Messianic elections, that is the question."

Conversation With a Tsadik

Isaac had promised to introduce me to a Tsadik I could speak with. Isaac didn't seem surprised that we had met. When I told Isaac the story of my arrival to the Holy Land, I had forgotten that I had mentioned Rebbe Meir. Satman overshadowed that memory. Reb Meir's table guests had left and we were greeted by the Rabbi and his wife as honored evening guests. The Rabbi ran to fetch us water and the Rebbetzin prepared tea and cakes. After the appropriate blessings, we talked. The Rabbi's home was lit only by kerosene lamps. The Sabbath candles were burning down to their bases. Entering their home, I was reminded that we were also entering a sanctuary, a place made holy by a sanctified lifestyle. We were also entering a story, the living, continuing story of a Jew and his wife who lived, and were, Judaism. I sat across from the Rebbetzin. I was warmed by her smile. The Rabbi was a Ladover. Quoting the words of his master, the Ladover Rebbe, he explained the meaning of Ladover Chassidism (in Hebrew). "Chassidism Is an all embracing world view which sees our central purpose in life as the unification of the Creator and creation. We are creatures of heaven and earth, with a heavenly divine soul and an earthly physical body with an animal soul. The goal of our lives is the transcendence of our nature, and to unify ourselves with God. God sends Torah and blessings down from above. The Torah is revealed in the words on a page which are like a body without a soul. Our challenge is to follow these words and direct our actions and intentions again heavenward. The teachings of Chassidism are a fountain of living waters with God at its source. These living waters must be deepened until the stream widens into rivers of righteousness. Our teachings must cover the earth like the ocean. Then every Jew can draw from the waters of salvation with joy and bring new inspiration and sanctity into their lives." "How can I, as an individual, know God?" I asked. "The well has not run dry?" It was the Rebbetzin who answered. "God forbid! Some of the rivers have dried and no longer flow to the oceans. The well of salvation is filled with sand by the evil forces called Philistines, but the source will always offer its waters to those

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern who thirst. We have to redig into the well to uncover the living waters." The Baal Shem Tov taught that the rivers of holiness run so deep that many wells may be sunk to tap the source. You may dig your own well, or drink at the well of others. I drink from Miriam's well." she said. I wanted Lillian to meet the Rebbetzin. Rebbe Meir took down three copies of a Chasidim tract. The Rebbetzin had her own book she studied. I was initiated into the mysteries of Chassidic discourse. The next few years, I returned often to drink from the holy well at Reb Meir's. Isaac often came along. He was adept enough to learn on his own but he enjoyed just being with the Rabbi and his Holy mate. I brought Lillian to their home one Shabbat. She saw only dinginess and darkness. The Rebbetzin, she said, served the Rabbi. She was his slave. No argument would convince Lillian. The Rebbetzin was, by the end of the visit, matching her judgment with judgment. Lillian said, as she left, "If there are wellsprings of salvation, they are polluted."

Sechelman's Home

Isaac studied with Rabbi Dr. Sechelman in his home. Isaac had the magical ability to bring Time, Place, and People into a type of holy harmony. He was always at the right place at the right time with the right people to lead him towards his destiny. I felt honored to share even a small portion of that grace of living that was Isaac's life.

Chassidim Without Sidelocks

A different type of Chassidism was taught by the professor. We studied the Mishnaic material on the term Chassid. "The first Chassidim would not wait one hour before praying. They prepared with meditation and meditated one hour after prayer." This means they spent up to eight hours per day in praying. A Chassid of the original Chassidism knew how to initiate a dialogue with the creator of all beings. In the Talmud (Baba Kama 30a), three definitions are given of a Chissid:

1.A Chassid prays with intense dedication and devotion. 2.A Chassid observes the teachings of Avot. Avot are the ethical rules that define, as principles, the laws of Judaism. It is a moral guide book for the Way, the Halacha.

"Which of the three would you choose?" Sechelman asked. "According to the plain meaning of the Talmud, the opinion of Rabbi Judah bar Illai a pious saintly person, a Chassid, is one who is scrupulous in the law of damages." "Explain." Sechelman said. "The Mishana teaches, `The person who hides their thorns and glass and the person who makes a fence of thorns or a fence that falls onto public property is liable for injuries caused by their neglect.' Our rabbis taught `the original Chassidim would hide their thorns and glass in their fields and bury them to a depth 3 hand-breadths so they would not be unearthed even by the plow.' Rabbi Sheshet (who was blind) threw them into the fire. Raba threw his into the Tigris River. It is apparent that Rab Judah's opinion is the definition of the pious, the Chassid." "Good," the Rabbi Professor said. "Now," he asked, "can you reconcile the three opinions?" "I will try," Isaac offered. "A saint follows all three opinions. When praying, they do more than is commanded. Their prayers are like a burnt offering that is totally consumed. But they do not stop with prayer. They learn the teachings of Avot, which is also a guidebook for the Judge of a Rabbinic Court. Avot, ethics, are the moral principles that birth their offspring, the specific laws a Jew follows to sanctify their lives. The offspring, the children of these ethical maxims are the specific laws of Nezekin, torts, which teach us how not to damage our neighbors." "Excellent," the Rabbi said. "A wonderful drash." I objected. "The chidush (innovation) of our Mishna is that observing what seems to be the letter of the law is not always enough. One who puts thorns in a fence or builds a fence on their own property is not transgressing the strict letter of the law. However, since extenuating circumstances could lead to the wall falling, one should go beyond the letter of the law. This is what a Chassid does to be saintly and we are taught that the law itself, when it came to damages, is to be Chassid. This is the meaning of R. Judah's opinion that a Chassid fulfills the laws of damages. In interpersonal relationships, all are expected to be saintly." "Good Reb Aryeh, what you are saying is technically correct. But hear also what Rebbe Isaac has to say." "Your approaches are not contradictory. One who prays and is knowledgeable of ethics and observes them is the Chassid." "But," I protested, "I think Rabbi Judah's opinion is more pointed. Many people spend hours in prayer and then act in most unsaintly ways. Any hypocrite can quote ethical maxims while living unethically in their interpersonal relationships. Rabbi Judah offers almost a philosophy of religious observance." Dr.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Sechelman answered: "While it is true that not all who pray are saintly, nor are all who judge righteous. Judaism teaches that prayer directs the individual towards pious deeds." Isaac smiled and appeared pleased that I, his student, was creating Talmud with the Rabbi. "Serving God and interacting ethically with our neighbors are connected, directly, in Jewish moral systems. Before action comes contemplation." "Give a concrete example of being a Chassid based on our text." Sechelman asked. "Pray devoutly, judge righteously, and love your neighbor as yourself," Isaac said. "Don't throw a banana peel in the street," I said, keeping to my thesis. "Good," Sechelman said. "Both answers are inspired by the words of our living oral Torah."

Fur Hats and Sidelocks

"Being a Chassid has nothing to do with fur hats and sidelocks and black clothing," I said aloud, not realizing I was verbalizing my thoughts. Both Sechelman and Isaac smiled. The Rabbi taught: Maimonides explains that a bore, an empty individual, does not fear sin. They have neither wisdom nor moral attributes. The individual who does not have intellectual virtues but has moral virtues cannot be a Saint (Chassid)." "But the original Chassidim of our times," I said, "are lacking in knowledge but full of fervor in the service of God!" "They were opposed," Sechelman explained, "exactly for that reason." "Please explain." I said. "As Maimonides writes in his introduction to the Mishna, anyone who says that the ignorant can be saintly, denies the teachings of Judaism and Reason. First comes study. Then observance. Learning must precede practice. Through learning one comes to practice and practice does not bring about learning." "I think that learning and belief are secondary," I said. "Jews are defined by what they do." "But what one does is the result of belief and knowledge, which is acquired by study and reason." Isaac added. "An individual's actions influence his learning. The action itself, even if performed mechanically, is a teaching. And many who know the meaning behind the action still act mechanically." Sechelman interrupted. "Maimonides creates a paradigm of the excellent individual, one who achieves a unification of the meditative ideal and halachic observance. He calls this individual a Chassid."

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "So Maimonides was a Chassid who wanted all Jews to be Chassidim," I said. "According to Maimonides, are the Chassidim of today real Chassidim?" Sechelman didn't answer, but he bowed and swayed.

On the Park Benches of the Earthly Jerusalem

Lillian and I continued our relationship. I needed to hold her and be held, and we walked and talked and became companions. We studied together. At first I helped Lillian with her Talmud assignments. She had a fine intellect and was my equal in deductive proofs, but far superior in inductive leaps. A week of preparation using the many commentators she could intuit in an hour session. I loved learning with her. We ate together and went to movies together. There we could hold hands kiss and caress. After the show, she loved to eat Schwarma's braised lamb sandwiches in pocket pita bread. Then we would find a bench in an isolated section of one of Jerusalem's parks. She sat on the bench, legs spread. I sat on the ground, legs crossed, Hindu style. One time a Chassid walking by came close to see this ritual of the new religion we were practicing. Lillian covered my head with her skirt. We became hysterical. The Chassid, I would learn, probably did not even understand what he had just witnessed. Lillian was from an orthodox Jewish home. Her family expected her to marry a Jew, perhaps even a rabbi, and raise a nice Jewish family. Like her own family, the wife would be Queen but the husband would be King. The arrangement worked just fine for her parents who had a long, happy marriage. Lillian's mother was a loving, devoted wife who served her husband in the best tradition of the Jewish Aishet Chayal, the Jewish women of valor. A woman's place was in the home. She ruled over that sacred space. The man's domain was time. That was why he was obliged to perform religious deeds bound by time and the woman was not. Lillian's father claimed that while the man and woman had different domains they ruled, they were, in fact, equal. One Shabbat he explained his view of women in Judaism. "Go to an old orthodox synagogue and you will see in its very structure the veneration Judaism feels for women. Upstairs, elevated over the first floor where the men pray, is the Ezrat Nashim, the women's section. Elevated. Exactly as it was in the Holy Temple when the women were elevated and separate from the men. This is indicative of Judaism's views on women. The Jewish woman is put on a pedestal." He was not in Jerusalem to see just how hard his own daughter fell off that pedestal. She would spend the next ten years picking up the pieces and in the end she would choose a role like that of her mother.

But I race ahead, Theophilos, and we shall speak of this later. Being a biblical testament we move chronologically and to a climax. Please be patient my gentle friend. I know that this testament is the chronicle of the Messiah and that this Paul follows tradition and speaks over much. But Isaac assures me that this is fine, for it is my testament to his life. "Each of my apostles will recreate me in their own image," Isaac says.

*****

Lillian loved her father. Her father loved his tradition and truly loved his daughter. Perhaps they loved one another too much. He told stories of Lillian as a child and was always ready to show the home movies. Lillian was told to put something on her feet before she went out to play. She put washcloths on her feet. Daddy protested and she precociously answered, "But you said put something on my feet." He never tired of these stories. Lillian's father was the only man I ever met who was more infatuated with her than I. This love made it all the more difficult for Lillian to find herself as a woman. She was torn between the safe lifestyle of her parents, and the New woman being birthed with tremendous pain by the feministic movement. Lillian began to live a life of ambivalence. She would always love her father and his tradition, but the Chain of Tradition became the chains of tradition. She took to rattling those chains. I remember her first hotdog in Copenhagen. She bought it from a street vendor, because it was advertised as pork sausage. She bit into the hotdog and dropped the bite on the ground as if the dog had bitten her back. The lightning did not strike. "It's good," she said on the second bite. And what is sweeter than the forbidden fruits. A new world was then created for her, one without sin or punishment. Her second year in Yeshiva, Lillian read the feminist tracts so popular at the time. One gave a lurid account of cliterectomy and the sewing together of the labia by Bedouin tribes in Saudi Arabia. She read this account over and over, along with other cases of the repression of women by semitic societies. She lectured, "The patriarchal system was established to repress women. Originally there had been a Matriarchy. The men took over and began to dominate the women." She read and dreamed of Amazons and Lesbos. Her parents had named her Lillian and Leah. She chose to become Lillith.

Dear Theophilos: See her "History and Herstory" in the Psalms.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Lillith worked on making me the first convert to her New Revelation. She used the Schulchan Aruch as the proof text of Judaism repression of the female. She purchased this Schulchan Aruch from a used bookstore in Jerusalem. The black bound volume was frayed on its bindings. The gold embossed letters as the title Code of Jewish Law (Schulchan Aruch) were fading. The title page read:

Code of Jewish Law (Kitzur Schulchan Aruch) An (Abridgement) of Jewish Law and Customs

Lillian was not concerned with laws on Rising in the Morning, Laws concerning Slander, Benedictions on Food, Oaths, the Sabbath, or Festivals. It was the fourth volume, the fourth Tur she insisted we read together.

Chapter 145 The Laws Pertaining to Marriage

1. A man is duty bound to take a wife in order to fulfill the Biblical precept "Be fruitful and propagate." This precept becomes obligatory on a man when he reaches the age of 18.

A teacher of a new revelation, Lillian taught me her novel way of interpreting the text. "This law seems reasonable," I said. "People are commanded to marry and to propagate." "Man," she hissed. "You've missed the whole point! The man takes the wife! A woman is acquired in three ways," Lillian said, quoting the first Mishna in Kiddushin. The Talmudic tractate on marriage: 1) By silver (money) 2) By contract 3) By sexual intercourse "The woman is acquired. Purchased. Signed and sealed, and then raped! She becomes the property of the man." Lillian said. I reread and my eyes opened to Lillian's view. "This is one of the least offensive laws," Lillian said. "Read Law Four!" "If one married a woman and stayed with her for ten years and she did not give birth, he should divorce her." I understood what Lillian was saying. He marries her. He divorces her. "She serves no purpose if she's not a baby factory." Lillian added.

Chapter 150

Lillian turned to Chapter 150, Halacha one, and said, "This you won't believe, the complete repression of the sexuality of the female, and the male: 1. A man should accustom himself to super-holiness and be in a proper frame of mind when having intercourse...he should have intercourse in the most modest manner possible. A)He under and she above is unchaste. B)Both at one and the same is improper.

"This really is puritanical," I said. "The Chassidim use a sheet with a hole in the middle!" Lillian said. She pointed her slender, painted finger at the fifth halacha. She had begun to paint her nails red, and I noticed her lips were also a darker red than before. I read: "It is forbidden to glance at that place, whoever does has no shame and violates `Be chaste!' Certainly one who kisses that place violates all this and `You shall not make your soul abominable.'" "Vekol-sha-cain Hanoshek Sham," Lillian quoted in Hebrew. I was an easy convert. This was Puritanism at its worst. I was amazed to find it in a Jewish book and even more amazed to find it in the divine oracle. I would ask Isaac about these Laws. Aroused by the prohibitions of this most forbidden of fruits, we did the acts forbidden. Lillian fell asleep and I returned to the Yeshiva.

To Er Is Human

Isaac and I had continued our patterns. He worked on his thesis at Hebrew University. We studied together and visited Reb Meir and Rabbi Sechelman to learn with them. Shlomo had moved into his own private room on the third floor of the Yeshiva. I moved in with Isaac. I loved being Isaac's roommate. This evening he knew I was troubled and asked me what was on my mind. "The Kitzur Schulchan Aruch," I said. "A dangerous book," Isaac interrupted. "How so?" "It gives the impression of giving authoritative rulings and misrepresents the legal process." "Explain." "No Jewish text should be printed without commentaries. Jewish law is a dialogue between Jews and God. Rabbi Ganzfried's code is not necessarily binding on Jews today." "Thank God!" I said, thinking about my encounter with Lillian. I asked Isaac about Chapter 150. Isaac commented. "The rabbis

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern realized that when male and female join they are in the image of God, and that sexual communion is the highest sacrament God gives individuals `to be as God'" "So how do you explain the Puritanism of the Codes?" "Environment." "Meaning?" "The Mechabar and Rabbi Ganzfried in his selection of laws codify opinions based on their understanding of the world. Both lived in Puritanical, repressed societies. "So the problem is not so much with the divination as with the one doing the divination." I said. "Yes." "Would an orthodox Rabbi agree with your explanation?" "No." "Why not?" "Because the diviner is expected to be neutral and to allow God's will to manifest itself in legal decisions based solely on the test." "But between the text and the decision there is the worldview of the codifier." "Exactly." I had a more pressing practical question., "The last halacha of the Chapter, I find particularly offensive." I expected Isaac to know it by heart, but he asked that I read: "Semen is the strength of the body and the light of the eyes. When it effuses in abundance, the body weakens and one's life is cut short. He who overindulges ages quickly...his eyes grow dim, his breath becomes foul, the hair of his head, eyelashes, and brows fall out, while the hair of his beard, armpits and feet increase. He is afflicted with many ailments." Isaac laughed. "A bit overstated I must admit." I looked thoughtful and said, "Now I understand!" "What do you understand?" "Why the Chassidim have such long beards. I'll have to check their feet at the Mikva!" Isaac grinned. "This is pure nonsense," I said. "Not exactly." "What?" "The sperm is the living water of a man's strength. That strength should flow into proper channels. The Kaballah teaches that the ejaculate contains the essence of the thought at the time of ejaculation." Isaac said he was tired and needed to sleep. I was aroused from being with Lillian. Isaac said Ha Mapil and went to sleep. I thought of Lillian and masturbated. The next evening I visited Lillian. She wanted to study the chapters on the regulation of the menses. I explained to Lillian what Isaac said about the Kitzur Schulchan Aruch. It was not the final opinion. Lillian was not impressed. "So what is it? Don't you think the orthodox of Jerusalem follow the Schulchan Aruch?"

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern She moved closer to me and turned to Chapter 153. She put her hand on mine and read halacha one: "A woman from whose fountain there issued a drop of blood...is considered menstrually unclean until she counts 7 clean days and takes a bath of immersion in a Mikvah. He who lays with her is punishable with Karet, being cut off from his people. She is subject to the same punishment. To touch her in a caressing manner is punishable with 39 lashes of a whip." Lillian caressed my hand. "I'll have to get my whip," she said. "It's my period." "I don't mind," I said, caressing her back. I noticed a new halacha to wrestle with following the admonition against excess cohabitation.

Chapter 151

"The spilling of semen in vain is more severe than any of the sins mentioned in the Bible." "Aught-oh," I said. Lillian giggled. "Those who fornicate with themselves using their hands causing a vain effusion of semen violate a grave prohibition..." "It doesn't say someone else's hand," Lillian added winking. "Concerning them it is said (Isaiah 1:15) `Your hands have spilled blood.' Masturbation is analogous to killing a person." "See what Rashi wrote concerning Er and Onan in the Parsha Vayeshev that both died committing this crime." The diligent scholars that we were, we looked up the story in Genesis, Chapter 38. Rashi says that Onan interrupted his lovemaking and came outside of Tamar because he did not want to mar her beauty through pregnancy and childbirth. We disagreed with the Schulchan Aruch's interpretation of the text and Rashi. No sin is committed in the spilling of semen, only in Onan shirking his responsibility to marry his sister-in-law, an injunction of biblical law. Lillian felt Rashi was wrong in calling Onan's desire not to diminish Tamar's beauty through pregnancy a crime. The Schulchan Aruch lists remedies for those caught in the trap of masturbation or nocturnal emissions. The list is extensive and includes giving charity, scrupulous observance of the Sabbath, to be called to the Torah and to be among the first to come to the synagogue for prayer. Evidently, this was quite a problem. The Schulchan Aruch encourages sublimation of this sexual energy into pious religious acts. I read the second halacha in Chapter 151 as Lillian prepared tea and cookies. She had slipped into a lose-fitting magenta Arab dress embroidered with purple and black. "One is forbidden to willingly harden himself or to think of a woman."

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern I thought of Lillian without her robe and immediately became hard. "If he does think of women, he should divert his thought to Torah which is a favorite wife and full of grace. The thought of fornication comes only unto a mind devoid of wisdom." Lillian took the book from my hands. We kissed and held a long time. "You are tainted," Lillian said. "You shall be utterly cut off from your people!" I slipped the finger between my lips and said, "If I die, let it be for this noble cause!"

The Favorite Wife

Isaac taught me how to prepare for the Queen Sabbath. He carefully washed and cleaned his garments and shined his shoes. He offered to shine mine. The clothes and shoes laid out, he said it was time for the Mikvah. I had heard tales of the dank and dirty Mikvah the Chassidim used for ritual immersion. Lillian spoke about the absurdity of a woman going to wash away her menstrual impurities. Chassidim used the Mikvah after wet dreams. I did not want to go. "You will have to learn the meaning of baptism in the Mikvah." Isaac said. "It is a rebirth in the pool of living waters that awakens the dead part of our spiritual soul and resurrects the part of us that dies." I did not know then why I specifically had to learn this mystery. Isaac prepared for the Sabbath in the manner of a groom preparing for a wedding. "On the Sabbath, the Jew is married to Eternity," Isaac said. "On the Sabbath, the people of Israel and the Holy Shechina are redeemed from exile and dwell together in a place of time, embracing for an eternal moment." "To the Holy Black Jews of Ethiopia, the Falashnas, the Sabbath is God's favorite angel and is adored by all other angels who they greet and celebrate with song." When the bride enters the wedding canopy and is betrothed, the sanctification is by wine. Kiddushin. Betrothal. When the Sabbath Queen enters her abode, we betroth ourself to her by kiddish, by the sanctification of the Seventh Day." I was more interested in an answer to a question Isaac promised to give me that evening. I had asked him about Ur and Ohan and about masturbation. Isaac said that he would explain Ur and Ohan on the eve of the Sabbath and that until then I should not masturbate. I wanted to know why. Had Isaac been entrapped by Puritanism? One night after seeing Lillian, I think he heard me trying to quietly touch myself beneath the sheets. As we prepared for and entered the Sabbath, I tried to be in the spirit of Isaac's devotion. We chanted the Song of Songs. A love song between two lovers. I told Isaac I was skeptical about the Rabbinic teachings that the song expressed the love of the Jews for God and the love of God

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern for the Jews. "The teaching is a true teaching," Isaac said. "I prefer to see it on a more sensual level. The love between a man of flesh and blood and a woman of flesh and blood." "The Song of Songs is a model for interpersonal relationships." Isaac said, reflecting on my objection. And it is also a love song the Jewish people have written to their Creator." I began to feel the unification the service was singing of when I said the Shema. I felt at one with God, the people I prayed with in the Yeshiva and all Jews everywhere. I wondered if the Shema included non-Jews. After Kiddush, a Sabbath feast was served. "A Wedding Feast." I ate too quickly. Isaac laid his arm on mine to tell me to slow down. He set his fork down after every bite and seemed to raise up the fork in a type of offering before the food entered his mouth. We went for a long walk after dinner and finally returned late to our room. I was ready with my question. "What about Chapter 151?" I asked. "Please." "Chapter 151 of the Schulchan Aruch. You know. About spilling semen in vain." Isaac explained again that the sperm is the strength of man. It is the essence of manhood. "I know," I said. "I'm asking about the gravity of the sin. The Schulchan Aruch says this is the greatest sin mentioned in the he Torah. Certainly this is an exaggeration." "Yes, it is an exaggeration." "It says masturbation is analogous to killing." "Also an overstatement," Isaac said. "However, what Onan did was a type of death." "Explain." "Onan means `sorrow,'" Isaac said. "His mother had severe pains at his birth and vowed never again to give birth. She went so far as to name her son my `Sorrow.' She mourned his birth. She knew not how to prevent birth and being a normal healthy woman, loved the sensual pleasure of sex and gave birth to another son. She named him `Disappointment.' She then learned a way to prevent and control birth. Now, her first-born son was Ur, which means `Awakening.' After Judah found a wife for Ur, his first-born Tamar, his mother awoke within him the desire to spare the travails of childbirth to the beautiful Tamar and to spare her of its toll on the body. Ur is slain by God. He does not pass on the secret of controlling birth to his brother, and his mother, fearful for the life of her second son, is also quiet. Now, their mother, Shua, had also raised Onan with the sorrowful teaching that childbirth was to be avoided at all costs and that if sex were used only for enjoyment we would remain forever young. One look at young Tamar's body convinced the sorrowful but virile and handsome young Onan that he could not get her pregnant. Now Judah had instituted the Yibum, the duty of a brother-in-law to

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern marry the wife of his brother if he dies. So the father Judah, explained to his son Onan that while he would raise up the children for his brother, the children would be called sons and daughters of Ur, not sons and daughters of Onan. Shua, Onan's mother, then reminded her son that he should not mar his sister-in-law's beauty by getting her with child. Onanism then, is shirking the responsibility of an ancient act of love and respect. The children that were not born, Onan, in a way, murdered." "You certainly make it more reasonable," I said to Isaac. "What frightens me is the Puritanical reading our rabbis give to the story."

"What frightens me," Isaac said, "was the preoccupation with this practice. It indicates that the relationship between man and woman was lacking." "Perhaps man's sexuality is stronger than woman's." I said. "No. It is a myth that a man's sexuality is stronger than a woman's. Tamar agreed to go to bed with Onan even though he was not consummating the act of love with the gift of life. Tamar so wanted a child that she tricked her father-in-law into getting her pregnant. And this is the same righteous Tamar who refused to make Judah into the fool, even after Judah said she should `be burned.'" "So what do we do until we're married?" I asked Isaac. I knew the answer to my question immediately. While Isaac was discreet, he had a few women with whom he was intimate. "Is masturbation wrong Isaac?" I asked. "No," he said. "It is not wrong. But isn't it a bit like dancing alone?" "That's the style today," I replied. Isaac laughed at the connection. "Onanism is not a sin," Isaac said. "But it is sad. The real meaning of sexual pleasure is revealed in the actual joining of male and female. When the connection is cosmic and female and male exchange essences, a child is formed. This is the closest we come to being God-like." I described my sexual relationship with Lillian and why I masturbated so often. "Get out of that relationship!" Isaac said. "Isaac, I love Lillian!" "You are not strong enough," Isaac said. "What do you think of when you masturbate?" Isaac asked. "Lillian of course," I answered. Isaac laughed. "Lillian is afraid of you sperm, I understand that. But why won't she take birth control?" "Lillian says birth control is dangerous for the female." "Why?" "The I.U.D. can puncture the lining of the uterus. The Pill may cause cancer. Prophylactics are not 100%. She is well-read in this area Isaac."

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "I think you should hold back some of you attention. You are too loving. You worship her and allow her not to reciprocate. This is unbalanced. Think about what I'm saying. You are too attached to your Love." I thought of Lillian and became aroused. "Isaac," I said, "you told me not to masturbate and I didn't. But I need to." "You masturbate too often, and improperly," Isaac said. "Improperly?" "Yes, your technique is all wrong." "What?" "First we talk about theory," Isaac said. Isaac must have heard me touching myself beneath the sheets. Technique? Theory?

Isaac taught. "When the great and holy Rabbi Hillel of blessed memory taught the essence of Judaism, he indirectly quoted Leviticus 19:18. `You must love your neighbor as you love yourself.' `I am God,' Rabbi Akiba quoted Leviticus directly. This teaching is usually analyzed according to the meaning of Rea Neighbor. How far does the sphere of Rea extend. Actual neighbors? Jews? Each and every individual of the universe? I believe it extends to the farthest boundary of the universe and returns to the self. You remember my speech in high school? Let's focus on the verse `Love your neighbor as yourself.' "We forget the `As Yourself.' This is also a Commandment. Love Yourself. Socrates says `Know Thyself.' The Torah teaches `Love Thyself.' It does not command narcissism, the self-obsession of those devoid of love. By loving ourselves, we learn how to love others. Know that it is this simple." "So what does this have to do with your Theory?" "Everything," Isaac said. "You masturbate. You don't make love to yourself." "I still don't see a difference." "When you make love with yourself, it is a prelude to the time you don't have to dance alone. The sexual dance involves movements towards the beloved and away from the beloved. Think of the motions." . "This giving and receiving teaches both partners how to be Adam; how to be male/female. If you make love without a mate it is easy to fall into the trap of seeing sex as only one motion. This throws off rhythm and timing by disturbing the speed of the act of lovemaking. It is a type of death."

My friend Theophlos, I pray I do not offend you. This Testament simply would not have been complete if I had not related to you how Isaac taught me to love myself.

On the Sea of Galilee

The walk to the Sea of Galilee is a descent after an ascent. The roads through Samaria and North are twisting and dangerous, and the hills difficult to climb. The final descent into Tiberius brings one below sea level. Isaac, my spiritual and geographical tour guide, mapped the way of our journey to the Heart of the Kingdom of Israel. He told me one of the reasons for the journey on the way. He was to meet his father and mother. They were leading a tour from Laguna Beach. I loved walking the land with my friend. Here Abraham entered the Land from Haran, and Isaac and Jacob played. This was the Biblical Holy Land. I imagined a young David with his sheep and an older David dancing with the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. Isaac was the guide. He knew the genus and species of the flowers and their curative potentials. We foraged and ate our way to Galilee. Isaac had bread he said he had baked, in a backpack. He quoted chapter and verse about the places we passed through, and related the anecdotes that united these holy places with their Biblical narratives. I learned the meaning of holy places in the Holy Land. "Everywhere our feet touched," Isaac taught, "we make holy land if our intention is to bind together place, time, person, and God." Isaac it seemed to me, had walked this road many times before. I asked Isaac about his parents. He spoke with awe and respect for his father and love for his mother. I knew Isaac wrote home once a week. He explained that this fulfilled in action the Commandment "Honor thy father and mother." Isaac often asked me about my family. Only now did I think of asking about his own family. "My parents, bless God, are well. Mother volunteers at the hospital and helps run the Sisterhood of the Church. Father continues to build." "Build what?" I interrupted. "Churches and housing developments. Father's ministry is spreading from San Diego to San Francisco and beyond to the North. He dreams of also expanding to the East and even to the West, to Hawaii, the Orient, and of course, Israel." "And what are the teachings of your father's church?" I asked. "Bible true Christianity," Isaac answered. "A fundamentalist approach to the Old and New Testaments as a guidebook for spiritual guidance of our everyday lives." "Who is attracted to his church?" "The beach people who have become as gods in the body, all golden and bronzed, and as kings in their regal lifestyle. All those in the newest of Promised Lands, California, who seek the spiritual, after being successful materially. People seeking Truth and Prayer, and community and..."

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "And an authoritarian father-figure to tell them what is right and wrong," I added. "Yes," Isaac said. I hoped I hadn't offended Isaac. "What about building homes?" I asked. "How did your father get into that business?" "Through me," Isaac said. He explained. "When my grandparents passed away, they did not pass on to me my spiritual legacy as a Jew. I think they knew, but it must have been a family secret. I'm sure my father doesn't even know. He certainly isn't aware of the Jewish lineage of my mother. Anyway, they did leave me a material legacy of $17,000. While in high school, I decided to invest the money. I didn't want it just sitting in a bank. I knew someday the money would buy me the power and freedom to determine my own destiny if I invested wisely. I bought an old house overlooking the beach that was structurally sound, but in need of repair. With a carpenter, we fixed the house up and leased it out. With the equity in this house, I bought another. We fixed it up, rented it out, and continued the process. I allowed the carpenter to choose some homes and he worked for me full time. My only stipulation was that the homes have an ocean view. I also bought land in the late 1960's. One could still buy land then. You know that prices began to rise dramatically. I owned ten or eleven homes and land and kept buying. I bought until recently and now we are sitting on much of the holdings. The money generated on the leases of over 1,000 homes is tremendous. I have been too busy to even think about the Real Estate business, so I have my father run the corporation. He is vice-president. With my approval he began to build housing tracts, entire neighborhoods, and create new communities." I felt light-headed, trying to process all this information and all I could say was, "Company?" "Yes," Isaac said. "Sheloh building." "Sheloh, like the name of the Messiah?" I asked. "Exactly." "Does your father mind working for you?" "I don't believe so. The only thing he's objected to is the spelling." "Please?" I asked. "The spelling of Sheloh. He insists that the proper spelling is Shiloh. I tried to convince him that Sheloh, or Sealah was the correct transliteration of the Hebrew, Sealah the right pronunciation.. He disagreed. I explained that someday he would understand my spelling and I ended the conversation." We arrived and met Isaac's parents at the hotel. We must have smelled from our journey, because Isaac's mother insisted we shower. I did so first, and afterwards sat and talked with Isaac's parents. They stared at my ritual fringes which were visible under my well-worn white Yeshiva shirt. The Reverend went to a bureau and pulled out a sky blue, expensive looking sport shirt. "Wear this," he said.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Isaac came out of the bathroom in his Yeshiva clothes. He looked like a rabbi. Ritual fringes hung over his belt and pants. They were white against his leg except for the thread of blue, which matched his pants. Isaac also wore a white shirt.. His mother remarked that he looked thin. His father offered Isaac a magenta version of the shirt he had given me. Isaac respectfully declined. I felt uncomfortable in the shirt. I looked like Isaac's parents' son. Isaac looked like a poor rabbinic student being given a free dinner. Isaac's mother asked that he please wear the magenta shirt. Isaac changed. Now we looked like brothers. Isaac's parents wanted, and were expecting, to eat with the tour. Isaac said the restaurant was too fancy. He insisted he could not eat in a room with all the windows closed and that we eat on the shore. His parents excused themselves and we left the dining room of the hotel. The tour members watched Isaac. They were excited. Expectant. On the way out, Isaac and I noticed the sign on the bus the same time: SHILOH TOUR. Isaac shook his head and smiled. He turned to his father. "It's Sheloh, with an E. Cherek," Isaac said. "E in Hebrew."As in Sea. "Shiloh with an I," said his father. The old controversy continued.

Breakfast

Isaac's parents had booked us a room at the hotel. Isaac stood on the balcony looking out on the lake. "Maybe it was frozen," he said. "Maybe he found rocks that jutted like stepping stones." I had no idea what Isaac was talking about. He spread his sleeping pad and bag on the balcony and slept on his left side facing the sea. I was ravenous for breakfast. The full buffet was a feast to this starving rabbinic student's eyes. I piled my plate high. Isaac said the fish had too high a salt content and that I should eat only one piece. Isaac took tomatoes and cucumbers and one hard-boiled egg. We sat with the Reverend and his wife and a number of people from the tour. Everyone seemed to be watching Isaac. They looked at him with reverence. Isaac lifted the tomato and cucumber and said

Blessed art Thou, O Lord, King of the Universe, who creates the food of the Earth." He cut a small slice off the tomato and ate. He then raised the egg and said another blessing. The room quieted. Everyone looked at Isaac and ate their food. Isaac

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern carefully washed his hands and ate a small piece of bread. He usually did not eat bread at breakfast, and like a child on Passover, I almost asked what was up. Isaac cut up the tomato and cucumber into small pieces, added pepper and oil, and then carefully peeled the shell off his egg. He seemed thankful for the shell and the way it so carefully protected the egg. The Reverend annoyed, said, "Remember, My Son, It is not what goes into the mouth that is important, only what comes out of the mouth!" Isaac smiled and said quietly, "What goes into the mouth must be sanctified, as well as what comes out of the mouth. We uplift with a blessing the food that goes into the mouth, with a benediction what comes out of the mouth. The two are closely inter-related." Everyone strained to hear, but Isaac was making every effort not to publicly embarrass his father. A number of people did hear and passed this teaching to their neighbors. Soon the entire room was talking. The Reverend was silent for the remainder of the meal.

No Ice and No Rocks

Isaac's father invited us to go rowing in the afternoon. Isaac looked at his father understanding something I had missed. It seemed a bit late by the time we got to the lake, but Isaac was unconcerned and we rented a boat. A crowd from the tour followed us to the shore. We pushed off into the sea. Isaac and his father sat facing the Galilee. I faced the shore and the crowd. I had no idea why they were watching. The waves of the sea rolled gently under the boat. The fishermen were returning with a good day's catch, their boats low in the sea. The Reverend looked first at the fishermen and then at his son, He expected Isaac to say something to the fishermen. He did not. Sunlight sparkled on the water and all was quiet, except for the sound of the oars breaking into the water and pushing against the sea. Isaac spoke to his father, but I did not listen to what they were saying. I rowed strongly, loving the feeling of exerting myself and the motion that resulted. The sun slipped behind a cloud. More clouds appeared quickly, and the wind picked up. We were in the midst of a storm. I dipped the right oar and turned us around. We were near the middle of the lake when I headed back. The wind became a gale. The Reverend was shouting at his son, but I could not hear what they were saying. The wind had turned into a squall and waves began to break over the bow of our boat. I rowed furiously. Isaac and his father stood up in the back of the rowboat. They were struggling. I shouted at them to sit down. The Reverend screamed like a madman over and over, "Calm the sea!" "Calm the

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern sea!" Isaac pulled his father back down into a sitting position so that I could row the boat. Isaac sat with eyes closed, like he was asleep. I was afraid we wouldn't make the shore. I was astonished that Isaac sat so calmly. The clouds moved so swiftly I could see them skipping like sheep over the mountain tops into the distance. The storm died as quickly as it had come. We neared the shore. Isaac stood with eyes still closed. The sun had almost set and the storm had brought us into the approaching darkness of evening. The Reverend looked at his son expectantly. He waited for Isaac to walk upon the water to the shore. The Reverend's congregation could see us from the shore. They also awaited the Miracle. Isaac moved back and forth. He was shokeling. He was davening Mincha, praying the afternoon prayer that is obligatory before dark. The Reverend stood and shouted at his son, "Walk! Walk!" I noticed a number of congregants ready with cameras to witness the miracle. Isaac continued to bow and sway. The Reverend told me to move, and took the oars. Isaac took three steps backward to end his prayer. His father used the oars to steady the boat. He waited for his son to walk to shore. Isaac opened his eyes. The Reverend said, "My son, it is time to reveal yourself! Walk to your flock, they await you!" Isaac stood and stared at his father. Isaac did not move. The Reverend understood that his son was not going anywhere. He lifted an oar out of the water and swung it in Isaac's direction. Isaac said, "Father, I forgive thee," as the Reverend knocked him into the lake with the oar. We were close enough to the shore that I could see the faces of the Reverend's followers. Isaac fell into the water and then stood up. For a moment I also thought I was seeing a miracle. Isaac stood half in the water and half out, and walked backwards to the shore. I thought he might rise and actually walk on the Galilee. All of us then understood that we were close enough to the banks of the sea for Isaac to be walking on the shore. Only Isaac was not disappointed. Still standing in the water he turned to speak to the crowd. Baptized by the water, he spoke with the authority and force of a prophet. "The Peace, it shall come soon. Sheloh draws near. You stand huddled against the night Waiting to believe that which is unbelievable Shaking in expectation and fear

Did I not still the storm? Will you still your own fright? Expecting the miraculous as a sign; instead I ask of you As one rising from the dead

A teaching of the Son Of Man and Woman:

Ascending into the sacred chambers of the celestial heavens Entering the marbled palace of the Queen and King.

I heard a madman's voice, shouting `Water, water,' and another `Ice, ice' Yet I calmed my inner storm And heard the still, small voice say

`A miracle, my son, is not a mirage Nor a Messiah a magician.'

Teach this my son And that we are all, each one of us, sons and daughters Of the Living God

Keep your feet always planted Like an oak growing Firmly in the ground When thoughts ascend towards heaven.

Hear the Song of the Kinneret A New Song of the Sea As the wind plays upon the water, of her, my harp The Galilee.

Isaac and I returned to Jerusalem the next day. Our relationship was fundamentally changed. "Isaac," I asked. "Are you the Messiah?" "Did I walk on the water?" he asked. "No. But your prayer, your song." "If you record my sermon on the Galilee, that would be good," Isaac said. "The time to speak of messiahs has not yet come." The Shiloh Tour came to Jerusalem. Isaac refused to walk the Via Delarose Friday morning with his father and Tour. The cross is carried from Antonia Fortress where Pilate condemned Jesus, to the Holy Sephlacure, where his body was laid on Joseph of Arimitea's tomb. It is not difficult to understand why Isaac did not go. Instead, he spent time with his mother. Isaac's parents returned to the States and we returned to the daily rituals of our lives. Isaac received his PhD from Hebrew University. His thesis was on the Holy War idea in Judaism and Islam. Isaac also completed a special Rabbinic ordination in the

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern four Turim of the Schulchan Aruch. My ordination reads: "You may teach, you may teach." Isaac's read: "You may judge, you may judge." We both became Rabbis but Isaac was also a Dayan, a Judge. Isaac helped me get through my ordination regime. The laws of slaughtering animals and salting meat turned me towards vegetarianism. Isaac insisted I finish my studies. I did and also enrolled in the PhD program at the university.

The Summer Before Diaspora

Isaac asked that we spend the summer together on a Kibbutz in the Galilee. Lillian wanted to join us. Isaac and Lillian were not happy about a summer together. Sparks ignited whenever they were together. We arrived in the middle of June. The Galilee felt oppressively hot after Jerusalem. Even in summer, Jerusalem is cool in the evening. The Galilee was stifling and sometimes humid. The weather affected my mood and I felt oppressed by the humidity. Isaac and I were assigned a room together in the volunteer quarters. Lillian wanted to room with me. This was impossible on a religious Kibbutz. Men and women volunteers had separate buildings. Lillian threatened to leave. The three of us sat and talked about the situation. Isaac agreed to work in the library when we needed the room. Isaac was reviewing college Chemistry and Biology. He was memorizing an anatomy manual. He had decided to enter medical school in the Fall in Jerusalem. Rabbi, PH.D., M.D. I told Isaac he must be a Jew, he was a hopeless overachiever. Isaac smiled and said, "I must be a physician." Isaac wanted me to stay in Israel. We could room together. Isaac explained that I should learn Arabic and ancient Semitic languages. He wanted me to research the `Pacifist Transmutation of the Holy War Idea in Joshua by the Rabbinic Exegetes.' "And afterwards," I said, "do you also want me to go to medical school?" "It would not be a bad idea," he answered. Lillian rolled her eyes. "He's already a rabbi. You can't expect him to follow your choices like some kind of a disciple," Lillian said. Isaac was silent. He went to the library and Lillian and I made our curious style of love. This time, however, she also pleasured me. In the morning we awoke at daybreak to work in the fields. Lillian had been assigned to the laundry room. She ignored the work list and worked harvesting grapefruits. The work was demanding. We wore rough sack cloth bags over our shoulders, climbed high ladders, descended, dumped the fruit into a bin and went up the ladders again. Isaac worked like a maniac. He wore two bags. "For balance," he said. Isaac picked four times as much as the other volunteers. He wither didn't sense, or chose to ignore the resentment of the other, slower workers, especially the Americans.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Lillian, of all people, felt challenged by Isaac, and put on two bags. She filled them. Standing on the top of the ladder, weighed down by the burden of her harvest, she could not descend. Isaac went up to help her. Lillian was angry. The other volunteers watched. "Fuck you!" Lillian said, embarrassed. "Not a chance," Isaac answered. Everyone laughed. They watched every move Lillian made in her tight work shirt. They would have loved a chance. I resented the whole scene. After word, we showered and sat on the steps of our bungalow in the shade. "This is the life," Isaac said. I looked at him skeptically. Lillian glowed from the work and the shower and sat, eyes closed, letting the sun dry the curls of her thick, dark brown hair. "The work is good for you," Isaac said. "Too much sitting around turns the mind to mush. It's a shame the Yeshiva isn't here. One could study and work, a more balanced lifestyle." We were on a religious kibbutz. I asked Isaac about the bizarre marriage of Religion and Socialism. "Labels," Isaac said. "Remember the Essenes. Religious ideals do not affect society at large until they are woven into Society's fabric. Today we have Kibbutzim, socialist villages, which are the most significant democratic effort towards radical social change in the last 1000 years. From the Eden of the Qumran community to the Kvutza of Degania, we find attempts to reclaim meaning of the concept of the Holy Land." "But Isaac," I protested, "the original kibbutznicks settled the land as a result of a secular atheistic vision." "I know," Isaac said. "But even the first Kvutzoat, like Degania, were, in my opinion, essentially religious communities based on the principles of social equality." "But weren't the original Kibbutzim supposed to be small communist cells in a capitalistic society that would eventually influence Israel to become a communist society?" "Yes," Isaac said. "And initially the kibbutz movement had strong ties with the goals of international communism,. So you see again the religious impulse in the beginnings of the kibbutz movement." I didn't follow, and said so. "Communism," Isaac said, "is a system that demands of its followers, belief in a world view that promises to perfect mankind. That is not only a religious dream, it's also a messianic dream." "A secular, messianic dream," I added. "The original kibbutzniks remind me of Essene communities in another way. They had a profound contempt for possessions and practiced a type of secular asceticism." "That's not apparent now," I said. "No," Isaac said. "Thank God. Here on the kibbutz we eat together in a magnificent dining hall, on food fit for a king." "I wouldn't go that far," I said. "The food is good, but lacks

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern the character that all mass produced food destined to lack." Isaac would not let me throw the conversation off track. "The initial tries to Soviet communist have all been pretty much severed." Isaac explained. "Perhaps the Soviets were embarrassed to see communism working on kibbutzim in Israel, when it was not working in the Soviet Union. Also the virulent Anti-Semitism that is part of the communist vision of world domination forced them to recognize Soviet Communism for what it is. A religious movement that is a messianic pretender." "How did Israel come to have religious kibbutzim?" I asked. "The kibbutz, as a model society, in no way contradicts the ideals of the Torah. The Torah demands social and economic Justice. The prophets dream of a society in which none go hungry and all are clothed and cared for. Yet no practical blueprint is given to implement this vision. The religious kibbutznik lives their Torah lifestyle with the added sanctity of economic co-operation and equality." "The women are the proliterate," Lillian said, her eyes still closed. "For women, the kibbutz movement is another failure of the Utopian dreams of men. The last item on a long list of male messianic pretenders. The original Chalutzim were chauvinistic pigs!" Lillian said. "The great socialist dream of equality was still sex stereotyped. They the builders. They women slaves. Some liberation!" "You only see the dark side Lillian," Isaac said. She opened her eyes. "Radical changes in stereotyping take at least one generation to die out. Also, institutional changes do not, of themselves, automatically eliminate chauvinism. It gives only the potential, a structural unit. The structure of the kibbutz, with children's houses and communal dining, free women to seek new roles in kibbutz society." "Sure," Lillian said. "They can all go to the ironing room and iron sheets eight hours a day, instead of doing a diverse number of chores in their family unit. Isaac, why don't you come down to Earth and stop lecturing your high ideals! The women are leaving the kibbutz. Surely you understand that eight hours of household chores or child care is not the liberty the feminists seek." "They could always join your cult of negativity and bitch their lives away," Isaac said. Lillian smiled. I think she enjoyed Isaac's challenge. I saw it as an attack. "Isaac," I said. Isaac continued, "The kibbutz is the only path in Utopia in our century to work. Women will find their equality here. It may take a generation or two, but they are patient. First economic stability and equality were established. Now they are working on the rights of individuals in the community and the needs of the women. Then the final step." "The final step?" "Yes. The rediscovery of Jewish values and the creation of a new Jewish lifestyle based on Jewish values. The next step will

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern include the steeping of the kibbutz movement in Jewish studies. Buber's dream." "Bubers?" I said, feeling a bit like a dull parrot. "Buber felt that small communities as models can have a profound affect on society. The kibbutz is a model for Jews in the 20th century and beyond." Lillian looked at Isaac thoughtfully. "As a theoretician you're unsurpassable," she admitted. She stood. "But I have to go now and convince the head of the work committee that I be permitted to work in the orchard and not on the assembly line with empty headed gossips whose brains have dissolved from lack of activity!"

We stayed all summer on the kibbutz. Lillian got her way about work. The volunteers called her `the brass balls queen.' She was moody and bored. She talked of returning to college and perhaps going to medical school. She wanted to leave Israel. I was undecided. I had to decide by the last week of July. Isaac's habits left us together in the room often. We began to make love. Lillian had planned the first time. She took a day off work and bought a new box of prophylactics and a bottle of brandy. She returned before I finished work and glass by glass finished the bottle. She threw the bottle in the trash and laid down on Isaac's bed. Isaac's crew returned first that day, finishing their quota of grapefruit before my crew. He found Lillian in his bed. Masturbating. She invited Isaac to bed. Isaac showered and went to the library. I entered the room and Lillian smiled at me. I showered and dried. Before I dried, Lillian invited me to bed. She was naked. She wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck. "Lillian, what about birth control?" I asked. She had the prophylactics under her pillow. . Isaac insisted I stay in Jerusalem. Lillian wanted me to come back to America with her. I would have to choose between my two messiahs. Lillian reacted calmly when I told her I planned to stay in Jerusalem. She listened patiently as I explained the importance of my studies and the work Isaac and I would be doing together. Lillian went to Haifa and bought two ticket to Copenhagen, two tickets from Copenhagen to New York, and two tickets from New York to Indianapolis. She planned everything carefully. She handed me my tickets along with the lab tests from the kibbutz doctor. "That's right," she said. "I'm pregnant." Isaac's response upset me. "How do you know you're the father?" "What? Who else?" "Ask Lillian. She offered herself to me." "When?" "The day she lay drunk on my bed." "Did you..." I asked, confused and frightened. "Certainly not," Isaac answered.

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern Lillian walked into the room without knocking. She must have been listening at the door. "Aryeh, you are the father," she said, looking at Isaac with contempt and hate. "I was drunk. I'm sorry. I shouldn't drink. I promise only you have made love to me. No one else could be the father." "Don't feel trapped," Isaac said. "You have a higher obligation." "Do you plan on keeping the child?" Isaac asked Lillian. As I spoke, Isaac turned toward me and Lillian slapped him hard, leaving marks on his cheek. Isaac did not flinch or in any way acknowledge Lillian's slap. He knew things at the time that I did not comprehend. I looked to Isaac for clarification. Now Lillian was angry with both Isaac and me. "Abortion is not murder," Lillian said. Why, I was not sure. "Do you think you are ready to be a mother?" Isaac asked Lillian. "Yes." "No." "I'm not sure." "Abortion in this case is murder," Isaac said. "When I asked you if you would keep the baby I meant after you give birth. Many sterile couples would welcome the chance to raise the child. If you do not plan on keeping the child," Isaac added, "you have no right to make demands of Aryeh." "Aryeh's obligation is to me," she said to Isaac. "And I'll make my own decisions about what happens in my body." Isaac left the room. "Are you ready to be a mother?" I asked. "Yes," Lillian said. "We'll return to the States and be married."

Mundane Years

We left Jerusalem the end of that summer. Jerusalem was experiencing a Chamsin. The temperature approached 110F as the Dead Sea's winds blew sand in a storm that covered the city. We arrived in Copenhagen. It was raining. The temperature was 40 degrees cooler. The contrast in people was also stark and refreshing. Blond, blue-eyed, calm aryans, after the hot, dark, excitable Mediterraneans. Lillian suffered morning sickness and vowed that one child would be all she would carry. She feared bringing a child into a world on the brink of global suicide. The ultimate orgasm, she called it. Phallic missiles faced off ready to come, the ultimate male power trip, the rape of the world. And if the world didn't come to its end, she worried about bringing a child into a world vastly overcrowded. Each new mouth took food from the mouths of starving children. The only moral option, Lillian argued, is adoption.

"After the child is born," Lillian told me, "we will adopt. If we have a boy we will adopt a girl. If we have a girl, we will adopt a boy." This seemed reasonable enough to me. "After the child is born," Lillian said, "we will have to find a safe form of birth control." I know Lillian considered the IUD and the pill unsafe. "What do you have in mind?" I asked. "A tubal ligation or a vasectomy," she said. This radical solution did not appeal to me. "What about prophylactics?" I asked. "Not 100%." "And foam?" "Inhibit lovemaking the rest of our lives?" I agreed to go see a surgeon with her in Copenhagen. Lillian assumed that Copenhagen would be a good place for a young couple to find a doctor who would do a sterilization operation. On the "walking street," explicit sexual literature was offered for sale to tourists who came from around the world to experience this form of Danish liberalism. The doctor refused to even consider operating on either of us. Lillian asked how long she would have to stay in the hospital with a tubal ligation. "One week," the doctor answered. She seemed to know the answer before the doctor gave it. "But you'll never find a surgeon who will do a sterilization on such young people as yourselves. Either of you” He dismissed us from his office with a wave of his hand.

New York

We found the doctor in New York. The operation could be performed on an outpatient basis, and required only one hour total. Lillian convinced me to get a vasectomy.

*****

Oh, my friend, Theophilos. I know. I know. I could have waited until after the baby was born. But Lillian convinced me only a New York doctor would do the procedure. The voice of authority of the Torah said to me, "Be fruitful and multiply. People the Earth with your seed." The voice of conscience said, "The world is overpopulated. Children are starving in Biafra. Adopt. Fix the world before bringing more hungry mouths into an imperfect one." I did not have the insight at the time to realize the possible

*****

The surgeon was skilled and his schedule full. He could only see me on Saturday. The Talmud teaches: Each evil deed drags along with it another evil deed. I desecrated the Sabbath. Lillian wanted to watch the procedure. The surgeon told her she would have to stay in the waiting room. We had shaved my testicles the evening before. The doctor opened the scrotal sack with a minimum of discomfort and blood. He snipped twice on each side. I looked up to see Lillian standing in the doorway. Her tongue slid between her lips and snaked back into her mouth. Her tongue appeared sufficiently sharp that she could have used it to assist the surgeon in his operation. We traveled to Lillian's home in Indiana and were married. I took a job as a Rabbi in a Jewish high school. Lillian taught art. Lillian never mentioned the child to her mother or to her father. I returned from school one day to find her ashen-faced and in bed. She said she had a miscarriage. I cried. The one child I could have fathered was now dead.

Diasporas

We moved around a lot. I taught successfully for a number of years in Indiana, but Lillian became restless and we moved to Hawaii. We lived on the beach for half a year. I read and attempted to write. We moved to California. I taught at Berkeley high school and Lillian discovered the Berkeley feminist scene. She worked at a women's health collective, joined a support group, and learned that women came from clitoral stimulation rather than from the almighty penis. Lillian asked if I would be upset if she took a woman lover. I hesitated and imagined the three of us in bed together. I said yes. They became emotionally involved and her lover had no interest in men. I said no. Too late. This was the first time I left Lillian. I moved South to Laguna. I rented a room in a house overlooking the Pacific. A local jeweler made an earring of a male sign with a section of silver cut out of the circle. I wore it to bars and took women home who yearned for the freedom of lovemaking without any worry of conception and contraception. For skeptics, I had a monthly sperm test done at a local lab. Lovemaking is more than dancing and a night with a woman was not enough. I loved the women I come into and wanted at least friendship after physical intimacy. I began to form rules. I would not make love with women who would not stay the night. The

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern holding was as important as the act. A number of times I took women home who were helplessly drunk. Then I could hold them without making love. The women I met were content to bump bodies and were not into building relationships. I quickly tired of this lifestyle. I stayed home and slept alone. One morning I awoke and found Lillian in my arms. Lillian and I decided to move back to Indiana and the safer lifestyle of Middle America. The school welcomed me back. Lillian decided she wanted to paint. She took the year off. I taught courses in Biblical Personalities, Mishna, Talmud, Prophets and Jewish history and law. The next year I expanded to Hebrew literature and Peace studies. I enrolled in a Masters Program at a local university, in History and Education. I did not completely forget Isaac and what he expected of me. I studied Islam and learned Arabic. I wrote my masters' thesis on the Spiritualization of the Holy War idea by Jewish and Islamic mystics. I taught a course on Peace in the Middle East at the University. I taught about Peace in the Nuclear Age, but there was no peace in my home and no peace in my heart. Lillian took one year to complete one picture. It was nude. Lillian used herself as a model. The woman in the painting was more angular than Lillian. Her shoulders were covered with yellow shawl of light. She sat with her legs spread. Lillian hung the painting in the living room until her father came to visit. She was going to casually display her work, but at the last moment before he came, she brought it into the bedroom. The second painting, the second year, was of a mother and a child. They were one, their hair flowing together. The woman was drawn with sharply ethnic features, and looked like her sister, and her daughter. Lillian had the talent and the time, but did not paint. She went to the library and looked into the books on the wall for visions of a life that would make her happy. For a few months, it was a dairy farm. I suggested communal farming in Israel on a kibbutz. She would not hear of living on a kibbutz or moving back to Israel. She found a book on open relationships and suggested we open our marriage to other partners again.

Dear Theophilos, the opening of the marriage led to its death. Looking backwards I am awed by my inability to think or act straight with women. I was married, with a vasectomy. There was no chance we would have children. The security guaranteed to a woman by a marriage document was not necessary. This was not a true marriage. But Lillian demanded joint bank accounts. And I played husband. Dear God, forgive me the many sins of my "marriage."

Messianic Years

Isaac wrote to me from Jerusalem as he finished medical school. I missed my friend, but the love and support he gave me in person, he conveyed in his letters. Their arrivals were significant events in my life. Isaac consoled me on the loss of my child and never spoke ill of Lillian after we were married. I did not tell Isaac about my vasectomy. Isaac wrote weekly during his years of medical school. Lillian always wanted me to read the letters aloud to her. She was jealous of my love for Isaac. I did not hear from Isaac for five years. I wrote to his parents. At first they also heard nothing. Then Isaac sent brief notes from Teheran and Mecca. From Delhi and Bombay. From Nepal. From Japan and Korea. Isaac's father wrote short notes to me describing Isaac's spiritual journeys. The Reverend was angry beyond words. He wanted his son back. I also felt abandoned by my friend. The last year of his journeys Isaac sent his father a return address and asked his father to send it to me. I wrote Isaac and told him of my life with Lillian and teaching. I confessed about my vasectomy and told Isaac all I thought and felt. Isaac wrote a lovely letter in return. He was living in the forest in Korea learning a form of Taoist Yoga called Sun-Do. The yoga was not only passive and mediative, Isaac explained, but also active and structured into the movements of this newest martial art. Isaac explained that he was also learning sword technique and was happy to be learning the way of the spiritual warrior. He would see me soon, God willing, upon his return. I dreamed of being in Korea with Isaac. He was learning centering and how to be in a body that was a well-conditioned temple for his divine soul. My center was surrounded by fat as I lived over much in the spirit and not enough in the body.

Isaac's Return

Isaac mailed his possessions to Laguna from New York and backpacked to Indiana. I was at school, so Isaac walked there when he found I was not home. I was embarrassed when I saw my friend. My students laughed. Isaac looked like a biblical prophet who walked into the 20th century. The rabbis gaped at Isaac. Their eyes narrowed as the bell rang and the students stayed in the hall surrounding Isaac. The light of Isaac's countenance was shining and the children were moths to that light. A few touched him. He glowed

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern even brighter. Isaac asked the students to return to class. Isaac introduced himself to the rabbis as Rabbi Isaac ben Avraham. They shook their heads over his "pretension" to be a Rabbi and returned to their classrooms. I invited Isaac into my class. I was teaching Talmud. Isaac taught the class for me without consulting the text. My students were amused as I took notes on a number of novel insights Isaac illuminated from the test. Isaac stayed with us until after the Sabbath. The old tension between Isaac and Lillian continued, but mostly from Lillian. She knew Isaac was insisting I have my vasectomy reversed. He also suggested I not live in an open relationship if that was not what I wanted. "You are neither physically nor spiritually married to Lillian because of your vasectomy," Isaac said. "Have it reversed by microsurgery, two surgeons, one on each side, will reconnect both sides and restore to you your potential for divine creation. If Lillian doesn't want children, find someone who does and don't try to love all women Aryeh. That is the illusion of the New Age. Love one woman as the essence of womanhood and the fruit of that love shall be a child in the image of God and the flowers of that budding will be your own realization of your own divinity." Isaac was open about his feelings about my relationship with Lillian. Lillian wanted Isaac out of the house. I told her she could leave, but Isaac was staying. Lillian accused me of loving Isaac. "I mean you love him, and want him." "Want him?" "Yes. Want him. You're gay and Isaac is your closest potential male mate." Lillian stormed out and stayed with a friend. Isaac left for California. He would begin his ministry there. Healing and teaching and reconciling with his father.

The Newest Promised Land

Isaac was in no hurry. He walked and hitched West. I received cards from Boulder, Colorado, Reno, and San Francisco. Isaac was at home in San Francisco. He spent time in Tiburon and Mill Valley with New Age healers. The Bay Area has its darker side, attracting pathological homosexuals, and their dreams of leather and bondage, and the sick heterosexuals who confuse love and violence. Yet the light of the spiritual seekers there will one day illuminate the entire West Coast and from there the waves of the Pacific dream will break on the shores of the very consciousness and being of even the most inland of American minds. Isaac walked from San Francisco to Laguna. His morning ritual attracted early joggers and people walking their dogs on the

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern beach. Isaac awoke and chanted "Modeh." He danced directly into the sea and immersed himself in her healing waters. Isaac sat facing East and stretched and meditated, reciting the Psalms of Praise in the Hebrew prayer book. He arose and did some Sun-Do Katas, highly ritualized dancing, where the spiritual warrior subdues the evil inclination. He then began chanting Shema inviting all who came to join him. Isaac then recited the 18 benedictions and the end of the service Isaac taught after her prayed. And this is how he slowly walked South to his home and the confrontation with his father.

The Study

Isaac's father's study was bordered on three sides by bookshelves that reached high to the ceiling. Older volumes, from seminary days, had not been opened for fifty years. Journals he once contributed to were stacked on the floor. Index cards with half finished notes lay scattered on his desk, apparently by imaginary winds, in a windowless room. Front and center on the desk was letters from journal editors requesting footnotes and sources. The Reverend reread a letter of rejection and his response, demanding a return to the primary source, the word of the Scripture, the rock of all Bible study. The Reverend could find no refuge or comfort in the study. He awaited the act. Long weary of words, his eyes scanned pages on his desk, the words marching in military order to the end of the page, or to oblivion, or the next line, only to continue, again and again, to where? He shifted in his well-worn leather swivel throne to stare at his Rembrandts'. The trinity of paintings had been his favorite for years. In the center, the Raising of the Cross, Jesus' body transparent and suffering. On the left, a red and white chalkwash drawing completed by Rembrandt in 1635. Abraham stands over a bound Isaac, forcefully pressing back Isaac's head to bare his throat. An angel stops the sacrifice so abruptly the knife is suspended in mid-air. On the right, an etching done in 1655. Abraham and Isaac submit to God's will, as Isaac kneels, allowing the gentle Abraham to lovingly cover his son's face with his open hand. Isaac is not bound. In their gilded frames these three images absorbed the Reverend when he could no longer think of words. When he could think only of the Word made Flesh. The word "crucified" and the word "resurrected." of the Second Coming of the Lord.

Isaac Comes Home Again

Isaac brought light and life and joy into his father's study. They studied scripture together and Isaac loved his father, and the teacher was humbled, as the student taught the teacher. The Reverend was overjoyed to return to the script of the Scripture and Isaac saw the story mirrored in the paintings and smiled peacefully.

Crucifixion: The Text

The Monday before Easter, father and son turned to the "By Faith" section in the Letter of Paul to the Hebrews. They studied Chapter Eleven in depth. The Reverend sat in his leather throne and Isaac fetched needed books for commentary. They began with the old Greek and Latin translations the Reverend had purchased in seminary. "These pages in Hebrews," the Reverend said, "are the most crucial in the Canon." "Explain," Isaac said. "These verses are the support and fulcrum of Holy Scriptures, on them all faith is balanced."

Hebrews

And what is faith?

Now Faith is the substance Of things hoped for The evidence of things Not seen. It is by Faith That our ancestors are remembered For by it the Elders Obtained a good report.

By Faith we see a world Created by God The visible coming forth From the invisible.

Through Faith we understand That the worlds were framed By the Word of God So that things which are seen Were not made of things Which do appear.

Two Verses - Two Edges of the Sword

By Faith Abraham when he was tried When the test came Offered up Isaac And he That had received the Promises

Offered up his Only Begotten Son

Of Whom it was said `That in Isaac Shall thy seed Be called.'

Accounting that God (Abraham reckoned that God) Was able to raise him up Even from the dead

From whence also he received him And from the dead he did In a sense Receive him back

In a figure.

Now this was the pointed tip of the fulcrum, Verse 19. The Reverend had Isaac retrieve various translations from all parts of the study. After comparing the Vulgate, Rheimes, and Bishops editions, the Reverend said, "Abraham's actions were a parable for future generations. The act was made complete when God the Father sacrificed His Son, Christ Jesus, for the sins of the world. God the Father completed what Father Abraham left unfinished." "I read it differently," Isaac said. "The revised standard translates that figuratively speaking, Abraham did receive Isaac back from the dead. The meaning of the parable is clear. Abraham did not need to offer his son on the altar because he understood that his willingness to sacrifice that which was most precious to him, his only son, sanctified Isaac. God does not require burnt offerings. My father requires only love and mercy." "Rabbi," the Reverend said, "I am your father, and I tell you father Abraham's actions were the shadow of the act and only the light of Jesus on the cross fulfills that which was not seen on Moriah, the Resurrection of the body of Christ." "The story in Genesis stands on its own," Isaac said. "The Midrash Rabbah describes the journey as one where the lad carried

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern his cross, the wood for the burnt offering, to Moriah." "Rabbi," the Reverend hissed, "will you Judaize the Truth and mistranslate the text, and reality? The Greek en-parable means that Abraham's actions were not to be taken figuratively, but as an example. A parable of the willingness of the father to bring his son to the altar. Saint Cyril of Alexandria teaches that the stories fit inside one another. Tertullian teaches that the binding of Genesis foreshadowed the completion of the Act at Golgatha." "And the Jews have been on the cross ever since," Isaac said. "What are you talking about?" the Reverend said. "In your misreading," Isaac explained, "you forget that Isaac and Abraham and many, many Jews, including Jesus, and after Jesus, were in occasion, asked to bear their cross to Moriah. The cross was carried with dignity and the sacrifice acceptable to the Lord." "So?" the Reverend sighed. "You confuse me!"

The sacrifice was acceptable to the Lord," Isaac explained, "but never desired by the Lord. The Lord gives life and the free will to each of us to choose life or death."

Laurence

I arrived on Tuesday. We visited Vista Point and other holy places in the Canyon. We prayed the morning and evening services facing the Pacific on "The Top of the World." We prayed the afternoon service jogging on the shoreline and we were baptized in the great ocean of tears and purity as we recounted our years of separation. We spoke of Sealah and the New Jerusalem. Isaac read Genesis again and Hebrews and Revelations. He prepared his script for the Good Friday service and the Final Act.

Dear Theophilos: By now my friend, you must have been accused of being Theophilus, not the Lover of God, but the cleric enmeshed in this devil Jew's net. You have come this far with me my friend. The orthodox say with the coming of Sheloh that you are obliged to renounce Christianity and deny Jesus.

Have I asked you to never again make the sign of the cross? This is not for me to ask. Sheloh has come, or come again, if you wish. But I am only Reshone La Sealah a chronicler. This time I will not be Paul, nor do I desire that role. The Final Act is recorded, forever, on film, and will be replayed over and over. This final testament will go behind the scenes, so that you may

Good Friday

This April day the sun was reborn in clarity and light and again promised a day of perfection. The rising sun split through the clouds, as the light fog lifted. Isaac and I finished our prayers in the Gazebo. The gardener was now dead, but we spoke of him and saw him in his garden, lovingly caressing the seeds into the earth and watering the garden. Services began at eleven and Isaac needed to be alone. The T.V. crews were setting up at the Church and the people of Laguna waited with expectation. At about ten o'clock when I arrived, people already were filing in. I looked at the massive church, whose granite walls rose, rock by rock, into sections that were further defined by stained glass alcoves. Perhaps they were Stations of the Cross. The Christian chronicler in this Final Testament can more accurately describe the structure and function of the Shiloh Church of the Resurrection. I was overwhelmed by the size of the church, as if a great and lofty cathedral grown on European soil had been transported to these Laguna Hills. I walked by the Reverend's study and he called me in. I had not seen the Reverend for many years and was taken by how in the image of his father was my friend Isaac. Dressed in his clerical robe, the Reverend was an ancient patriarch. He wore black and red and a giant Medallion similar to the Urim and Tumim of the High Priest of Old. I turned away from his intense stare and looked at the three Rembrandts. "Do you realize what is going to happen today?" the Reverend asked. "What? No. What do you mean?" We were interrupted by a knock on the open door. The television producer called to the Reverend. The Reverend left quickly without a good-bye. The lights from the camera were intense and hot. They were at my back, but on the Reverend's and Isaac's faces. I recognized some elders from the "Shiloh" tour. On signals from the producer and director, the service began.

Dear Theophilos: You can purchase the video. I will comment on the dialogue and disputation between Father and Son. The knife I saw was only a bulge near his belt in the study. The Reverend leaping towards Isaac is recorded in a moving version of the Rembrandt. But now the knife suspended in the air finds its target. My shout is also recorded, and the shout of Isaac's mother. I will record, my friend, how it felt to witness the final act and I will interpret it with a Sealah Midrash.

The Reverend stood on a raised platform and podium, surrounded by a low wall that enclosed his pulpit. Only after the act, did I see. The pulpit was like the end of a bowsprit of a whaling vessel. The Reverend was the harpooner. The Reverend's pulpit had an oversized Bible with red satin markers. Isaac's pulpit was less elaborate; perhaps it was the preaching pulpit. The Reverend and Isaac covered a lot of scriptural ground in their dialogue, much of which I had heard from Isaac in Jerusalem. I did not hear all the words. We who were there felt, in a way articulated by the fervor of our singing and the tension in the church that we were to witness one of the events of all history, an act whose teachings would guide humanity for millennium. The Final Act.

The Final Act

The Reverend's black and red robe I have described. The Urim and Tumim were lit up by the cameras' intense light. Isaac wore a rainbow prayer shawl over his head. In his left hand was a little Torah scroll. In his right hand Isaac held a Menorah with seven burning stars of light. Eyes aflame, he was a living statue of Liberty. On his forehead Isaac wore Tefillin. They were four compartments in one black box with the Shin of Sheloh on them. In each compartment written on lamb's skin, were verses of scripture teaching the One God. Isaac hummed a Niggun, a wordless song. He radiated peace and tranquility, Shalom and Shalva, for he was God's holy warrior, at one with his maker. The hour of fulfillment was near. Isaac, dressed all in white, would now be the final atonement. The Reverend picked up his Bible, the one he had preached from his entire life, and quoted: "Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?" Isaac laughed and smiled. "Do not weep for the Lion from the tribe of Judah, the Sprout of David, has the right to open the scroll and break its seven seals." "O, bright morning star, O, Scion of David, teach our flock, those invited to the wedding supper of the lamb, the word of God." Isaac taught: "I see a New heaven and earth emerging, the Merging of the Two Jerusalems, one Old, one New. The old uplifted to Zion, the new on Earth, as it is in Heaven." Isaac took a trumpet, a Shofar, and blew seven long blasts. The Reverend startled Isaac by saying: "Come hail! Come fire! Come mingled with blood! The Holocaustum offering is ready, with one heart, together, we step from Moriah to Golgotha, from Shiloh to New Jerusalem. The altar is prepared. The people are ready. The great wine press awaits the grapes of

The scepter is Shiloh's And the obedience of the nations He tethers his ass to the vine The colt to a red vine His cloak is washed in wine His robes in the blood of grapes Darker than wine are his eyes.

"Proclaim the eternal Gospel to every nation and tribe, language and people." Isaac answered: "Now at last God shall have a dwelling place among the people, as Torah teaches, `God will wipe away every tear from our eyes; there shall be an end to death, mourning, crying, and pain.' The old order is passing, the new begins, Amen. Sheloh." "Shiloh," the Reverend answered, astounded by his son's obstinate ness. Sensing his son would not respond to his script. "You who hold the seven stars of light in your right hand, the Scepter of Judah, my son who is the Alpha and the Omega, give us your final testament before your victory over death, the final covenant." Isaac answered, "One death is sufficient for my Father in Heaven." "You have dwelled too long in Satan's synagogue," said Isaac's earthly father, scourging his son. Isaac answered, "The perfect sacrifice has once been offered and accepted. A Peace of offering for Eternity."

"Nay," the Reverend shouted. "Nay. The blood of the lamb, blood is required to atone for the sins of the world. So says scripture. A war has broken out in Heaven. The Serpent of Old, Satan, the Devil is thrown down to Earth again, and his angels with him. This is the hour of victory for our God. The hour of His Sovereignty and Power. Come Christ, to your rightful rule! The Satan will be overthrown, but only by the sacrifice of the Lamb. Testimony is uttered. Witness is offered by those who do not hold their lives too dear to lay them down. The devil has come down in great fury. Time is short. Revelations 12:7-12," the Reverend said, to prove his point.

A New Song

"I come singing a New Song," Isaac answered. "One everyone can learn. Sing to the Lord a New Song." "Let us make a joyful noise to the rock of salvation," the Reverend interrupted to prove he knew the source. Isaac continued:

© 2007 Rabbi Aryeh Alpern "I am the Aleph and the Tav. Write! For these words are true and faithful. I was with God in the beginning, when He created Heaven and Earth." Isaac held up a crystal glass full of water. "This wine turned to water I offer to the thirsty This is my Final Covenant The water of life.

The blood of my people Spilled as water Atones with the Lamb The Pascal Pesach Frees us from the plagues Of the fearful and hard-hearted The blood-thirsty and the sorcerers Who seek fire and brimstone And the Second Death.

Even these I will redeem With this water of life

Let all who thirst, come Those who have been slaves Are now freed."

It was Sunday school again. The audience was divided in cross sections, some drawn towards the Father and others towards the Son.

The Reverend could hardly believe he and his son were arguing. He tried to calm himself . "My Son, My Rock, My Altar of Sacrifice and Salvation. Seven angels I see, dancing on the seven golden bowls of the Menorah you hold, and a loud voice I hear! Go and pour out the seven bowls of God's wrath on the Earth. Yea, the Seven Plagues of Armageddon are greater than the Ten of Egypt."

"This Passover," Isaac said. "We witness a miracle as great as the first Passover, for the children of the Lord shall all be saved from the second Death of Armageddon, and also the Egyptians from the Plague." "My father," Isaac said, turning, hoping to get his father's attention. "This time you must learn the A.B.C.'s of God's oracles. I offer water, not wine." "The Reverend stared straight ahead, as rigid and lifeless as a statue. "You are a grown man," Isaac said tenderly. "You can take solid food and discriminate between good and evil."

"My son, my son, why have you forsaken me?' the Reverend cried. "Father," Isaac said. `Today have I born you Untie the fetters that bind The umbilicus is cut Isaac is off the altar Christ is off the cross Be now my disciple, My son As I am disciple and son Of my Father in Heaven.'" "You dethrone your Father in Heaven and disrespect your father on Earth," the Reverend complained. "You take the Christ out of Christianity. You deny basics. Are you my son?"

"Let us stop discussing the rudiments of Christianity," Isaac answered. "We will not be laying over and over again the foundations of Faith in God and repentance from the deadness of former ways by repetition of instruction about resurrection of the Dead and Eternal Judgment." "When people see the light shining forth from this Menorah, when they taste the fruits of the Final Age, and still desire to kill me, they are crucifying again this son of Man and Woman. To the camera, Isaac said "My flesh melted with pain and sweat blood on the Roman cross." "Drink of the water of the final covenant. Do not become lazy and easily seduced by those who speak in my name. By their deeds, daily, they recrucify me, and God's name defame. Imitate those who live by faith and patience, for they are still inheriting the Promises."

Isaac, who had turned away from his father to speak to us, turned again towards his father. The Reverend was unrecognizable. His eyes were wild, his white hair and beard risen like the locks of the Furies above his head.

The Reverend closed his eyes again to calm his emotions. He answered his son. "My point is this, every high priest is appointed to offer gifts and sacrifices. This one, too, therefore, must have something to offer. Had that first covenant been faultless, there would be no need to look for a second in its place. But now my son, you are the high priest of good things which are to be. The tabernacle of your priesthood is great and perfect. The blood of the sacrifice is your own blood. Enter your sanctuary and once and for all secure our eternal deliverance. This is the Final Testament. In your death is deliverance. Where there is a Testament it is necessary for the death of the Testator to be established. Everything is cleansed by blood and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness." Isaac spoke directly to his father.

"I am the Amen I have come for your blessing." Isaac lifted the scroll and it unrolled. "It is a Tree of Life to those who grasp it, all who hold it are blessed. Its ways are pleasantness and all its paths are peace." Isaac walked to his father and gave him an end of the scroll. "These teachings flow with the word of God from the wellsprings of Salvation. The word of God is a river of life's waters, a living Mikva, flowing from the Throne of God. On either side of the river stands a tree. One is the tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. The other is the Tree of Life. They are joined by this scroll. The trees heal the nations, curing every curse. The fruit opens the heart to God's light. Those who taste have their eyes opened. They become God-like forevermore."

"My son now plays the role of Satan," the Reverend said. "Would you have me repeat the first Sin? Your blood alone brought redemption to Adam's skull. If I eat of the fruit, will you then, die?"

Isaac offered the scroll to his father. "Take it," he said lovingly. "Taste its fruit. Eat this. It is the body of my teaching."

"My son," the Father answered, "your teachings grow sour in my stomach even as mere words. I shall not touch or taste it. You are in Satan's snare. Oh my son, when you were born, God's temple in Heaven was laid open. I saw within the Temple the Ark of the Covenant, flashes of lightning and thunder, and a storm of snow. At birth you laughed and I named you Isaac, for Adam begat Abraham and Abraham fathered Isaac and Isaac foreshadows the Christ. I called your name Shiloh in Hebrew, the resurrection of the Christ, the cornerstone of my church, our rock of Salvation. I went with you to Moriah to bind you to the altar, to show you your destiny, bound by your fate."

The Reverend walked to Isaac's podium and returned the scroll. Isaac offered his father water. "I am not thirsty," the Reverend said. The Reverend stood by his son. Isaac smiled, praying for atonement and reconciliation . "I and my father are one."

"Yes," the Reverend said. "We stand on Moriahs altar, a clear view to Golgotha. Do you see my son? Do you not see my son?"

"Yes," Isaac said. "I see a Ram named Isaac and a Ram named Christ, and blood on the

"Yes," the Reverend said. "Yes."

He took his son by the arm and turned him towards a life sized cross. Near the cross were a ladder, a hammer, and three long silver spikes.

"Take your place on the cross my son." Isaac looked into his father's eyes and did not move.

"Reflection without passion will die in the arms of inaction," said the Reverend.

"Passion without reflection is the madman's inclination," Isaac answered.

"Jonah, Jonah," the Reverend shouted, remembering a Sunday school lesson of years ago. "You cannot escape your calling. The cross marks the way. Jonah could not hide Either/or Is a way of Three days"

Isaac answered with calm authority. "I am not here to offer myself again and again as the High Priest of Old who entered the temple year after year to spill blood that was not his own. We have suffered enough, I and my people. Each of us dies, and after death comes Judgment. One time the perfect sacrifice was offered and by this parable All is forgiven

This time Sheloh has come To offer Salvation To all those who are watching."

The Reverend was disorientated. "Is the devil speaking through the Christ?" He thought. "The Jew in you, my son, speaks with a sharp tongue," he said. "But the tongue of Revelations is two-edged. Rabbi," he mocked, "The Jew in you is obligated to believe in Resurrection. It is one of the Thirteen Principles of Faith."

The Reverend asked us to turn to Deuteronomy 32:39. God says:

`I kill And I make alive I wound And I heal.'

"Thy dead shall live Together with my dead body Shall they rise."

Isaac spoke only one more line: "Father, embrace me, as love embraces life."

Isaac turned to embrace his father. That moment the Reverend reached for his knife, leaping towards Isaac's heart. Isaac's mother and I screamed at the same time. Isaac jumped back and high in the air with a graceful twisting motion, but was unable to block the arm holding the knife. The knife entered his body, piercing Isaac's side.

Isaac fell to the floor. He could not lift his head but wanted to speak. The camera moved in, and a crew member with a microphone, as Isaac said: "Forgive my father. He knows not what he does." The camera focused on Isaac's eyes as they closed in quiet deathfulness.

No one moved. The scene turned still on the camera. The lidless eye chronicled without a blink.

I was the first to jump up to be with my friend. The Reverend, on his knees, wept, and shouted:

"He will rise. He will rise. My son is the Christ. He will rise. He will rise!" The Reverend fell completely to the floor putting his lips to the blood that flowed from Isaac's body.

Epilogue

Easter Sunday

Sunday morning I helped Isaac rise from his hospital bed. He was in good spirits and embraced me tightly. I embraced him carefully so as not to add pain to his wound. I began to cry because, in a way, thinking he was dead, Isaac had again been returned to us. Isaac held his mother for a long time and they baptized one another with torrents of holy tears. Isaac asked for his father.

The security guard at the door heard Isaac and stiffened. Reporters swarmed the halls. The Final Act was already a media event playing on national television. It was viewed by more souls than those that witnessed Moriah, Sinai, or Golgotha.

Isaac's novel story was already on its way to becoming an established oral tradition, a scripture for the Final Age of the New Jerusalem written now in this Final Testament of Shelohs coming.

Amen. Sealah

My Dear Theophilos: It is the Friday after Easter and the Sabbath will soon be here. Isaac is sitting and watching and smiling as I write. I have become a reed to chronicle his holy deeds. I often ask for his help remembering the past. "You write, Laurence," he says. "This is your testament."

Isaac's father is due any moment. Security is not happy with the invitation. The press malinger, wanting to know why Isaac insists formal charges not be filed against his father. He is her now.

"Hello, Laurence," the Reverend whispered. "Rabbi Laurence," he repeated. He was pale and seemed overly subdued. The Reverend turned towards his son. Isaac got out of bed and embraced his father. The Reverend brightened and wept like a child. "My son is raised," he said. "My son is risen!"

"Yes father," Isaac said, kissing the Reverend's cheek. "Your son

Sheloh Has Come (Genesis 49:10)

My dear reader, I pray that you have become a Theophilos. Sealah is here with Isaac as the chief cornerstone as we begin to build our final age religion.. Sheloh is no fiction. Isaac is training Rabbi Physicians and creating other holistic ministries. I will be collecting other accounts of the Final Act for the final edition of Final Testament. Isaac is writing a description of what Sealah is at this very moment. Isaac's invitation to you to join Sealah is at the end of this Testament. My friend, Theophilos, soon we shall meet, for this is, as you know, not an ending. Amen Sealah..